The Walking Dead Files
by Champeriffic
Summary: Mulder and Scully find themselves in the world of The Walking Dead. They know what caused the outbreak that turned the world into a wasteland filled with roaming herds of hungry, undead monsters. They may even be able to fix it. But first they must gain the trust and respect of Rick Grimes and the rest of his crew.
1. Chapter 1

Mulder tied the last knot in the fishing line. He reached for the bag that contained the noise makers. He began methodically hanging each aluminum can from the fishing line that encircled the small camp. It was a simple, but effective technique to keep unwanted intruders out long enough to get a few hours of sleep. Setting this make-shift alarm had become the nightly routine. It was important, he knew, for their safety. But it felt like just one more way of passing the time and marking the days. And the nights. The nights seemed to stretch longer and longer all the time.

As he hung the last of the cans Scully emerged out of the darkness. Even in the dim moonlight she looked filthy. He hadn't seen his own reflection in months, but he imagined he looked about the same or worse. Mulder was trying to remember the last time either of them had bathed when Scully said, "There's no movement out there. It seems pretty quiet tonight."

"Fantastic," Mulder replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Another quiet night."

Scully shot him an annoyed look, but she felt concerned. Mulder had been so morose lately. She was worried about him. She worried he was losing his will to keep going. Sometimes she wasn't so sure why she continued on herself. "Would you prefer another attack to liven things up?"

Mulder rolled his eyes at her. "You know what I mean. Every day is the same as the last. We don't know where we're going. We have no direction. We're just wandering and trying to stay alive. What kind of an existence is that?"

Scully replied, "Well we are still alive. Given the current circumstances I think that's some kind of existence worth celebrating. Don't you?"

"I'm just observing what a miserable experience this is."

Now it was Scully's turn to roll her eyes. "Don't worry, Mulder. I fully appreciate how miserable this experience is." Mulder looked slightly hurt by her remark. "Oh, come on, Mulder. Cheer up! You can't let yourself get depressed. We have to keep our spirits up if we're going to keep moving forward."

Mulder asked, "How do we know this is moving forward? It feels more like we're wandering in circles. I'm not even sure where we are anymore. And I'm not just talking about where we are on the map." Scully didn't have an argument for that. If they ever had a goal they were working towards, she had lost sight of it long ago.

Scully decided she may have better luck cheering him up if they both had a little food in their stomachs. She searched through their supplies and found a depressing dinner that they would have to share. She handed him half of an expired protein bar. Mulder looked at it in disgust. Scully tapped her half against his and said, "Cheers." He leaned into her and they ate together, side by side, in silence.

Later that night they did what little they could to clean themselves up and tried to get some sleep. They lay on the ground, using their backpacks as pillows and stared up at the moon through the trees. Mulder found himself lost in thought. He knew Scully was right, he couldn't allow himself to get depressed. There was no room for sulking in this world if he was going to keep himself alive.

Scully interrupted his train of thought. "I know things look bleak, Mulder. I know you feel defeated. But in a way I think you won. Before the outbreak your biggest frustration in life was people not knowing the truth. People wrote you off as a crackpot, alien-obsessed, conspiracy theorist. You always said 'the truth is out there', but now the truth is here! The world can't deny it anymore. All your years spent searching for the truth, all your conspiracy theories, all the unexplainable things you've seen and done, you were right about all of it."

Mulder pondered this for a good long while. "Maybe you're right, Scully. But so what? So the truth is here. I was right. It's a pretty pathetic consolation prize, don't you think?"

"I know, but it's better than nothing, isn't it? We've got to find something to hold onto."

"What good is it to be right? Right and wrong don't matter anymore. Dead or alive, that's all that matters now. And that's not much to hold onto"

Scully considered his statement. She knew he was right. It didn't matter anymore that they knew what caused the outbreak. It didn't matter that they saw the outbreak coming or that they understood the implications it would have for the world. None of it mattered because they had been helpless to stop it. After a long silence Scully finally said, "What about love, Mulder? Doesn't love still count for something? Isn't that something we can still hold onto?"

Mulder rolled onto his side and looked into her eyes. He sighed and said, "Yes." He gave her a small, sad smile. "Yes, love still counts for something. I'll try to hold onto that." He kissed her on the forehead and wrapped his arms around her. As he held her close and they both tried to fall asleep, Mulder attempted to picture the love that was left in the world. What was love without people to share it with? He held onto his long-time partner, his friend, the mother of his child, the woman who had always kept him grounded. He promised himself that he would find a way to keep going. If not for love, then at least for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Scully is standing over William's crib. He's looking up, mesmerized by the mobile hanging overhead. He's cooing. But there's another sound. Is it a wind chime? No, it's not quite the sound a wind chime makes. It's not melodic enough. It sounds flat, somehow. Then there's another sound. A growl. Where is it coming from? William. It's coming from William! This is wrong. This is all wrong!

Suddenly Scully woke with a start. The sun wasn't quite up yet, but it was starting to get light outside. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It was only a dream. She felt dazed for a moment, but then she realized with a sense of panic that the sound was real. She sat up and found herself staring into the rotting face of one of the many monsters that now stalked the earth, looking to feed. It was pressing into their fishing line barricade, the cans rattling away. She elbowed Mulder awake. "Get your knife," she whispered and she reached for her own. As Mulder worked to find his bearings, Scully scanned the woods to see if there were any more of them. She told Mulder, "I think it's alone."

"I'll get this one," Mulder volunteered and he cautiously approached the fishing line. He looked into the dead eyes that used to belong to a person, a man, a human being. He felt riddled with guilt. He never should have let this happen. He should have been able to stop it. This person had hopes and dreams once. This person had love once. Now it was nothing more than a shell. A hungry monster.

He could feel himself spiraling. He reminded himself of the previous night. He had promised himself he was going to try to pull it together. He told himself he would do it for love. But really he just knew he had to stay alive for Scully. That was what he would hold onto. He reached out and grabbed the monster's cold dead arm to keep it from scratching him. With his other hand he reached up and stabbed his knife through its temple. The creature stopped its incessant growling and fell limp, dangling from the tangle of fishing line. Mulder allowed himself one more moment to grieve for the person that used to occupy that body. Then he turned to Scully and said, "We should pack up and move on." Scully nodded her agreement.

They packed up their things and headed out in a vaguely northeastern direction. They didn't have a destination in mind. They just knew it wasn't safe to stay in any one place for too long. Sometimes they longed to meet other people. They agreed that it would give them some sort of hope to see that there was still humanity out there. However, every time they had come into contact with other living people they were met with hostility. It had always ended in some sort of violent altercation and they would have to make a hasty retreat. Still, Scully held out hope that there were still good people out there somewhere. Mulder was less optimistic. He felt that there weren't that many truly good people left even before the outbreak. What were the odds that many of those good people had survived?

After walking in silence for over an hour Scully asked, "So are you feeling any more chipper today? Or are you still the same ray of sunshine you were last night?" He glanced back at her and she gave him a look to show she was teasing him. He smiled.

"Why whatever do you mean, Scully? I'm always a delight to be around."

"Of course. That's why I hung around that windowless basement office all those years, the pleasure of your company." Scully laughed, "Remember the time you thought you'd been bitten by a werewolf?"

"Hey," Mulder exclaimed. "I got very furry, remember? That was no joke!" But now even Mulder was laughing. "Besides, I think I was still pleasant enough to be around, even with all the drool. And the fleas." Both Mulder and Scully erupted in a fit of giggles.

Scully was about to remind Mulder of another memory from their days working on the X-files together when she heard a rustling in the woods to their left. Mulder heard it too and they both turned, ready to defend themselves. One of the dead emerged from behind a tree, growling and hissing. It was a woman, or used to be a woman, whose skin was practically falling off. Her intestines were hanging out of a gaping wound in her belly. She had been dead a long time. Scully rushed toward it and stabbed it in the side of the head. No sooner had the creature fallen to the ground than another one, a man in what was once a business suit, lunged from behind the same tree. Mulder yelled, "Look out!" and Scully ducked. Mulder jumped over Scully and kicked the dead man in the chest. The creature fell to the ground and Mulder plunged his knife right between its eyes. He pulled his knife out and tried to steady his breathing. He could hear more approaching. Through the trees he could see at least three more bodies moving in their direction. "We should run," he told Scully. "I can't tell how many of them are out there."

Mulder and Scully turned and headed away from the oncoming creatures at a jog. They didn't get more than a few yards before they noticed another dead person heading toward them from a different direction. Then they could hear yet another one in front of them. Only moments ago they had been standing around reminiscing and trying to cheer each other up. Now suddenly they were surrounded. "Quick, this way," Mulder said and they headed due North at a sprint. They ran for what felt like forever.

Suddenly they came to a break in the trees and they nearly ran head on into a corrugated metal wall. It looked like some sort of fence and it was enormous. It must have been at least 20 feet high and from where they were standing they couldn't see either end of it. They couldn't go back the way they'd come from. The monsters were still closing in. They would have to find a way around the wall. If not around then they would have to go over it or through it. Mulder grabbed Scully's hand and pulled her East. They ran, as quietly as possible along the fence line. They could see where it turned a corner up ahead. Maybe they could get around it there.

Then Mulder came to a sudden halt. "Scully, don't move."

"What?" Scully whispered as she stopped in her tracks. Mulder pointed to the top of the fence line several yards from where they were standing. There was a guard post. Scully followed Mulder's gaze and she saw a woman looking at them through the scope of an assault rifle. Scully froze.

Mulder decided it was best if they introduced themselves. Out of habit he said "I'm FBI Agent Fox Mulder. This is Agent Dana Scully." The guard stared at the pair with fierce eyes, revealing nothing. "We mean no harm, but we're under attack. Can you help us?" Still no reaction from the guard. "Please, we just need…"

"Mulder, look out!" Scully screamed as a dead man with one eye hanging out of its socket emerged from the trees behind them. Mulder shoved the corpse, but it didn't fall to the ground. It only staggered backward a few steps. He reached for his knife, but the monster was already nearly on top of him again. Scully's hands were shaking as she went for her knife as well. It caught in its sheathe. She looked down to try to unsnag it and when she looked up she saw the creature fall to its knees and then face down on the ground, motionless. It took a moment for her to process what had just happened. She looked back to the guard who had fired the shot that saved Mulder. She said, "thank you."

The guard shook her head, seemingly doubting the decision she was about to make. Then she said, "Hurry, this way." and motioned for them to follow the fence line in the direction they had already been headed. Then to someone unseen from outside the fence she called out, "Eugene! Open the gate."

Mulder and Scully rushed off in the direction the guard had indicated and rounded the corner of the fence. They saw the wall being pulled back and a gate opened so they could enter. They rushed in and passed a portly man with a mullet who must have been Eugene. Once inside, Scully fell to the ground, panting. Mulder broke her fall and sat down beside her, trying to protect and comfort her as best he could. Eugene slammed the gate shut just as two more monsters approached. He slid the wall back into place, blocking out the sight and most of the sound from the dead ones outside.

Mulder looked around. There were people inside these walls. Lots of people. They were all approaching the gate, gathering around Mulder and Scully. Almost all of them were carrying some sort of weapon. The guard had made her way down from her post and was approaching with her assault rifle. There were lots of people with guns and knives. There was one woman who was wearing a sword. Mulder suddenly felt very vulnerable. Eugene and the guard kept their guns trained on the pair cowering on the ground, trying to catch their breath.

A man slowly emerged through the gathering crowd and approached Mulder and Scully. The rest of the crowd looked at him, waiting for him to act, waiting to follow his lead. He looked Mulder and Scully up and down. He looked into each of their eyes in turn. He had a deep, piercing stare, as if he were trying to see their souls. After what felt like an eternity he greeted them with a nod. There was no warmth in his voice when he said, "Welcome to Alexandria. My name is Rick Grimes. We're going to have a few questions for you."


	3. Chapter 3

Rick surveyed the newcomers with apprehension. As they sat, huddled on the ground at his feet, he wanted to know where they had come from, how they had found Alexandria, if there were any other people in their group, what their intentions were. He took a deep breath. There would be time for all those questions later. He remembered the moment he first set foot inside the walls of Alexandria. He had been mentally and physically exhausted. He didn't trust this place or its inhabitants, but he was desperate for a safe place for himself and the group of people who had become his family. He knew he should give these two new people a chance to calm down before he launched into his questions.

Rick turned to Sasha, who still had her assault rifle pointed at the visitors. "Search them and hold onto their weapons." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mulder open his mouth to protest. "Don't worry," Rick said to him. "You'll get them back later. This is just a precaution." Mulder paused for a moment but then gave a quick nod of submission. Rick had been in this position before too, being stripped of all his weapons. It wasn't as if he'd had any choice in the matter at the time, but he remembered clearly that it had made him feel naked.

Rick turned to Carol. "Take them to one of the vacant houses and let them get cleaned up. Get them a little food and water. I'll send Denise to give them a quick once over. Daryl and Aaron should be back today. I'd rather have Daryl there with me when I interview them." Carol agreed and stepped forward to help Mulder and Scully up off the ground.

"Come with me," she said, with a genuinely warm smile. "We'll get you fixed up." She steered them down the road past the rows of suburban houses that Rick and his crew called home. She made sure to walk just a step or two behind them so she could keep an eye on them both. Carol smiled to herself as she saw Mulder and Scully looking around in awe. She remembered what it was like to see a civilized town for the first time since the outbreak. She had been amazed by the perfect little houses with their front porches and curtains hanging in the windows. It had seemed unreal to her then as she was sure it did to these two people now.

She led them into one of the unoccupied houses. "Here we are," she said, inviting them across the threshold. "The bathroom is down the hall, first door on your right. There should be some clean towels in there. I'll have someone bring you some soap and toothbrushes. Sorry, we don't have any toothpaste." Scully and Mulder turned to face Carol. She knew toothpaste was probably the last thing on their minds at the moment.

Scully asked, "How long have you been here?" Carol assumed Scully wanted to know whether or not they had been sheltered in this place since the outbreak. The question she was really trying to ask was whether or not they knew what it was like out there. Carol knew all too well what it was like.

She wasn't ready to reveal too much information to these strangers just yet. "A little while now," she gave as a noncommittal answer. "I'll be right outside if you need anything." She turned to leave, but made sure they saw her gun in her hip holster as she left. She wasn't trying to threaten them. She just wanted to make sure they didn't try anything stupid. She looked back over her shoulder as she reached the front door. "I'll come fetch you when Rick is ready to speak with you." With that she left them alone to try to readjust to their new surroundings.

Within a few minutes Denise, Alexandria's resident doctor arrived. She climbed the steps to the front porch with a sliver of soap in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. She stopped in front of Carol who was sitting in a wicker porch chair next to the front door. Carol said, "They're definitely in shock. Just give them a quick exam. Make sure they're not scratched or bitten. I'll be right out here if you need me."

Denise nodded and sucked in a deep breathe, hoping to inhale a little courage as well. She had been a psychiatrist before the outbreak. Yes, she had gone to medical school, but she had never pursued this type of medicine. Infections, surgeries, amputations, that type of medicine had never been part of her plan. But she was all this community had. So she was trying to learn to act the part. She hesitated just another moment and then knocked on the door.

Scully opened the door looking, to Denise, a lot like a shelter animal: dirty, afraid, and unpredictable. "Hi," she squeaked out. "I'm Denise. I'm a doctor. I need to look you over." She dropped her gaze, trying to avoid looking Scully directly in the eye. She felt nervous, unsure of herself.

Scully introduced herself. "I'm Dana Scully. I'm also a doctor." That remark got Denise's full attention.

"You're a doctor? Like a medical doctor?"

"Yes. Or at least I was. Of course I haven't set foot in a medical office for a long time." Scully replied. Denise felt a surge of hope rush through her. She allowed herself to picture this woman staying in Alexandria, joining their community, and taking some of the pressure off her. Everyone assured her she was doing a great job keeping people healthy. But there was always doubt in her mind. Most of the time when she had a patient in her infirmary she felt like she was drowning.

Denise smiled a cautious smile. "I need to take a look at you. I'm supposed to make sure you haven't been bitten." Scully agreed and invited her in and shut the door.

About an hour later a car honked outside the gate. Eugene rolled the wall back and readied his weapon, a sharpened aluminum rod. As the two straggling walkers approached the gate he stabbed his spear through the bars and into the skulls of each of the two creatures; one through the mouth, one through the eye socket. It didn't take so much courage when they were on the other side of the iron bars. Courage was not Eugene's strong suit, but he was working on that. Once that immediate threat was taken care of he opened the gate and an old Ford sedan passed through with Aaron at the wheel. Eugene noted that he was alone in the vehicle. They must not have found any people worth bringing into the community.

The car was followed closed behind by a beat up and muddy motorcycle. Riding astride that motorcycle was Daryl Dixon, wearing a stoic look on his face and a crossbow on his back. Daryl nodded a greeting to Eugene as he passed through the gate. Eugene nodded in return and secured the gate and wall once more.

Sasha was still up in the guard tower. "Hey, Daryl!" She called down. "Rick wants to see you." He stopped the bike and squinted up at her through the bright sunlight. "He's in Deanna's office." Daryl nodded and rode off to find Rick.

Deanna had been the founder of Alexandria. She and her people had built up the walls and the defenses of this town. She had made it a community. She was the one who had taken in Rick and Daryl and the rest of their group when they had nowhere else to go. Deanna hadn't made it. She was bitten when there was a breach in the wall several months prior. But her legacy was still here. Her office had become the unofficial command center for Alexandria. Anything important that had to be discussed usually happened there.

Daryl pushed open the door to the office and saw Rick standing with his back to him, staring out Deanna's window. "Heard you were waiting for me." Rick turned around and gave Daryl a welcoming smile. He always felt a little safer when Daryl was around. Daryl was one of the few people he still completely trusted.

"Welcome back. Find anything interesting out there?" Rick asked.

"We found a little bit of food. Not much to write home about."

"Any survivors?"

"No." Daryl paused. "None that seemed like a good fit anyway." Rick wasn't surprised. It was rare that Daryl and Aaron returned with anyone. Part of Deanna's philosophy was to grow their community by bringing in outsiders. The problem was you never knew who you could trust. Daryl was an excellent judge of character and Aaron was a good salesmen. So the two of them would go out and try to recruit new Alexandrians together. Generally Daryl would make the call and if he gave the go ahead Aaron would approach them.

"That's alright," Rick replied. "We had a couple visitors while you were out."

Daryl was surprised to hear that. "What kind of visitors?"

"Two people, a man and a woman, showed up at the gate. They were running from walkers."

"Did you talk to them?" Daryl was curious. He wanted to know more about these people.

"Not yet. I wanted to wait until you were here. They're over in the house next door to Carol's place, getting cleaned up. If you're ready I'll send for them," Rick offered.

"Let's do it." Daryl was anxious. He knew Rick put a lot of weight on what Daryl thought of outsiders. He was always worried he might make the wrong call and end up compromising the safety of the people he cared about. That was one of the reasons it was rare for him to bring anyone back with him from one of their missions. He was afraid to trust anyone too much.

Carol led Mulder and Scully to Deanna's house and into the living room. "Rick would like to talk to you one at a time," she said. She gestured to Mulder. "You're up first." Mulder gave Scully a concerned look, clearly worried about leaving her alone with this stranger. "Don't worry," Carol told him. "We'll be right out here."

"I'll be fine," Scully reassured him. Mulder nodded and looked to Carol for direction.

"Right through that door." Carol motioned to the office. Mulder walked to the door and gave one last nervous look to Scully before leaving her and Carol to their awkward silence.

He opened the door and saw Rick sitting behind Deanna's desk with Daryl standing close behind him. Before Mulder could even take two steps into the room Daryl exclaimed, "Hey, I know this guy!" Mulder froze and Rick turned to Daryl in surprise. "I saw him out in the woods the first day of our last run. He was with a redheaded woman. They were setting up a small camp near the quarry."

Mulder spoke up. "That was three days ago. I never saw you."

Daryl locked eyes with Mulder and said in a confident tone, "I know."

Rick asked, "Why didn't you approach them?" Daryl knew Rick was really asking what was wrong with them. He wanted to know if Daryl thought they were dangerous.

"I just couldn't get a read on them. Normally I can tell right away about a person. I watched them for a while. Something about them just seemed...different."

Rick pondered that for a moment and then turned to Mulder. "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself." He motioned for Mulder to take a seat.

Mulder sat in one of the chairs facing the desk and responded, "I'm an FBI agent. Scully is my partner. We're from the D.C. area."

When Mulder didn't volunteer anything else, Rick pressed on. "What were you doing in the woods near the quarry?"

"Oh, you know, just taking a nice stroll. Having a picnic. The usual." Mulder's voice was thick with sarcasm.

Daryl gave a small chuckle. Rick turned to give him a disapproving look. "What? That was kind of funny," Daryl defended himself, half smiling. When Rick didn't smile back Daryl stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat, returning to his usual calm expression.

Rick rolled his eyes and asked, "Well?" He was asking Daryl if he should proceed with his questions. If he thought Mulder was worth consideration to become an Alexandrian. Daryl glanced from Rick to Mulder, giving Mulder a searching look. Then he turned back to Rick and nodded.

Rick turned back around to face Mulder. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Hey, they were already dead when I found them," Mulder said throwing his hands up in mock defensiveness. Rick gave him an impatient look. Then with a more sincere tone Mulder said, "I don't know, dozens? After we ran out of ammo I didn't see much point in keeping count anymore."

Rick found that to be an acceptable answer. Mainly he was looking for honesty, but also trying to gauge how well Mulder could defend himself. He didn't want to take on anyone who would be a liability to the rest of the group. He proceeded with the next question. "How many people have you killed?"

Mulder, who had been glancing around the room, observing his surroundings, zeroed in on Rick upon hearing that question. After a long pause he answered, "One."

Rick didn't blink. He held Mulder's stare and asked his last question. "Why?"

Mulder didn't move for a moment. Finally he let out a long sigh and dropped his head to his hands, despondent. "Because I thought it would save us. All of us," he replied, clearly distraught at the memory. "But I was wrong."


	4. Chapter 4

"I think that's all the questions we have for you," Rick said, after concluding his interview with Mulder. He could tell Mulder wasn't going to volunteer much more information. Maybe he would have better luck with Scully. "At least for now. Would you mind asking your friend to come in?" Mulder nodded and walked out of the office. Rick turned to face Daryl. "What do you think?"

"I think he's alright. He seems a little off, but he's been out there a long time. That can make anyone a little loopy."

"What do you make of him implying he knows what caused the outbreak?" Rick recalled their trip to the Center for Disease Control. They had met a man there, a scientist. He showed them how the virus worked. He told them there is no cure and that everyone was already infected. Rick had never questioned where the virus came from. If there wasn't a cure it didn't seem there was much point in knowing more about it.

"If he really worked for the FBI, then maybe he does know something about it," Daryl reasoned. "Let's see if her story checks out with his." He was still cautious of making a judgement call too early, but something in Daryl's gut told him he could trust Mulder. He wanted to believe that these two newcomers would be able to stay.

Rick turned back around to face Scully as she walked into the office. He greeted her. "Welcome, have a seat. This is Daryl. We have a few questions we'd like to ask you. But first we thought maybe you could tell us a little bit about yourself."

Scully gave a brief, polite smile to Daryl. "Why not? I'm Dana Scully. I'm a doctor and an FBI agent. I'm not really sure what you'd like to know about me."

Rick prodded her. "Mulder said you two were partners."

"Yes, we were partners for many years at the FBI. We worked together in a department that investigated paranormal activity." Rick tried not to let it show, but that sounded strange to him. When he heard the word paranormal he thought of ghosts and the like. Ghost chasing didn't really seem like an appropriate career path for a doctor. Scully seemed to notice the doubt in his body language and decided to add, "I was originally brought into the department to disprove whatever Mulder discovered."

Rick felt that sounded a little less odd and a little more scientific so he pressed her further. "He implied that you know what caused the virus. Is that true?"

Scully paused, seeming unsure of herself. Rick reasoned she was most likely wondering what Mulder may have already shared with them. He already had a slight suspicion that Mulder was out of his mind. He figured she didn't want to come off as crazy too. She was being careful. Cautiously, she said, "If you mean the cause of the outbreak, then yes, we know how it started. But it wasn't exactly a virus."

Rick and Daryl glanced at each other. So far Scully was much more forthcoming with information. They wanted to keep her talking. But what Scully had just said was a slight deviation from what Rick had already accepted as truth about the outbreak. "We've been to the CDC and a scientist there called it a virus."

"I'm sure he believed it was," Scully replied. "The immuno-response presents in very much the same way as it would to a virus. There were only a handful of people in the world who knew what it actually was and I doubt very much if anyone at the CDC had that sort of security clearance."

"But you did?" Daryl questioned, incredulously.

Scully's eyes darted between Daryl's and Rick's. "Not exactly," she finally said. "Mulder and I were working to uncover evidence to expose what the government had planned. We weren't supposed to know anything about it."

"Are you saying it was a government conspiracy?" Rick had never considered that option. In his mind he started to piece together everything he knew about the outbreak. He tried to see how this new piece of information could fit into the puzzle. He was trying to evaluate whether or not he could trust this woman and also trying to figure out if this information she was sharing was even useful.

"It was. At least it started out that way." Scully searched their faces, clearly unsure if she could trust them. Then, with a sense of hopelessness in her voice, she continued, "Listen, I could explain the whole thing to you, but you would probably think I was insane. We had evidence. We had proof of everything. It would be so much easier if I could just show you the proof." She dropped her gaze, shaking her head.

Rick scrutinized her closely. He felt he could believe her. He was pretty certain he knew what she was going through. She wanted her proof because she was worried that they would never believe her. They would think she was crazy or lying and they would send her and Mulder packing. She had only been inside the walls of Alexandria for a few hours, but already she likely felt she desperately needed to be accepted here. This was the first time she had felt safe since the outbreak. She needed to find a way to stay. Rick knew all this because he had felt the same way when he had sat exactly where Scully sat now. Deanna had interviewed him and he wanted to believe that this place could be a safe haven for his people.

"Where is the proof?" Daryl asked her, bringing Rick back to the present.

"It's in our office in D.C. We tried to take it with us, but there was an incident and we had to leave quickly. It's all still there in that building as far as I know."

"Well then why don't we go get it?" Daryl asked. Rick spun around to give him a concerned look. Daryl quickly added, "I need to go on another run anyway. We didn't find much in the way of supplies this time. I'm sure D.C. will have something that hasn't been picked over yet." This was true of course, but Daryl's curiosity about the cause of the outbreak was the real reason he wanted to go on this mission. He also had a growing inquisitiveness about these two people, Mulder in particular. While he trusted them more now than when he had first spotted them out in the woods, he still felt they were different somehow. He couldn't quite explain it and he wanted to know why. "You two would have to come with us," he said to Scully. "You'd have to lead the way."

"Now hold on a minute," Rick said throwing his arms up in protest. "Before anyone goes anywhere, we're going to need a little more to go on. Why do you need this proof? What is so hard to explain?"

Scully paused a moment and then decided to take a leap of faith. With a slightly mischievous smile she asked, "Gentlemen, do you believe in aliens?"


	5. Chapter 5

Mulder and Scully stood in the living room of the house they had been assigned. They had been escorted there from Deanna's former home by Rick, Daryl, and Carol. The silence on their walk to the house had been uncomfortable. Mulder and Scully had wanted to compare interviews. Rick and Daryl wanted to fill Carol in on the potential plan to go to D.C. However, there wasn't trust yet between these groups of people. So the conversations had to wait.

Scully peered out one of the front windows. There were now five people standing in the road out front, having a heated discussion. Daryl stood with his arms folded across his chest, looking stubborn. Rick paced with his hands on his hips, seemingly explaining something to the rest of the group. Carol was listening with rapt attention. They had been joined by the woman with the sword from earlier and a tall, muscular, redheaded man who looked none too happy..

"So what do you think?" Mulder asked, taking a seat in the living room.

Scully turned away from the window. "What do I think about them?"

"About them, about this place, about their interrogation."

"I would hardly call it an interrogation. They have questions. That seems understandable." Scully had felt hopeful after her interview. Daryl's response in particular had really lifted her spirits. She saw a glimmer of hope that she and Mulder could gain acceptance in Alexandria. Now she just had to get Mulder on board.

"Well I have questions too. Such as, when can I have my knife back." Mulder replied.

"How much did you tell them?" Scully asked to shift the subject away from their confiscated weapons.

"About us? Just whatever they asked. No more no less. Why how much did you tell them?"

Scully tried to assess the best way to approach that subject. "I told them who we are and how we know each other." She paused here, trying to ease into the subject. "I told them a little about the type of work we used to do."

Mulder raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Did you tell them they used to call me Old Spooky around the office?"

Scully smiled a little, relieved he was taking a light hearted outlook. "I didn't mention it. I did, however, tell them that we know what caused the outbreak."

Mulder was suddenly on alert. "Did you tell them everything?"

"No, but I told them we know what the cause was and that we have evidence of it in D.C." Scully waited for a reaction and when she didn't get one she continued. "They both seemed interested in what I had to say. Daryl seemed especially intrigued. He volunteered to lead a mission to recover the evidence."

Mulder let out a small snicker. "Yeah, well, let me know how that works out."

"He wants us to go with him. Both of us." Scully shot back, sensing his cynicism.

"For what?" Mulder asked, jumping to his feet. "What do we need the evidence for? To prove to these people-who are basically holding us captive, by the way-that we knew something? Why should they even care? It's not like we could fix it."

Scully took a step back from him, trying to regroup. This wasn't going as she had hoped. "We need them to trust us. We need them to accept us here. We have to show them that we have something to offer."

"Correction, Scully: you have something to offer. I'm done. I'm not trying to convince anyone that the truth is out there anymore. Those days are over. It's a waste of time."

"Please, Mulder," she begged. "I need this. I know you can't see it right now, but you need this too. We've been wandering for so long, being attacked at every turn. We need a safe place to rest and regroup, at least for a little while."

Mulder looked into her eyes and saw desperation there. He reminded himself that he was trying to keep it together for her. She was right about one thing. She needed this. "Okay, Scully. Okay. We'll tell them what we know. I'll try my best not to sound like a lunatic." Scully gave a relieved smile at that remark. Mulder continued, "If you want to go to the X-files office, we'll go to the X-files office. I'm with you."

Scully was about to move in for a hug when she heard angry voices and footsteps approaching the front door. She turned and approached with the intent of opening the door, but it burst forth before she could get there. In came the tall redheaded man, followed closely by the other four who had been holding a discussion in the street. They were trailed by a young man wearing an eye patch and holding a baby. Scully wasn't sure what to make of this scene, especially the baby. She instantly wanted to know who's child this was, how old she was, was she healthy. Then all thoughts turned to her son, William. She had given him up for adoption for his own protection when he was just a baby. That decision had haunted her ever since. She shook her head to snap herself out of her own memories.

Carol hollered, "Abraham, just calm down for a minute!"

The tall red headed Abraham shouted back, "Calm down for what? So you can tell me what a great idea this is? How we should all put our lives on the line? They're strangers!"

"You were a stranger to us once!" Carol yelled back.

"I was a stranger to you? You were a stranger to me!" Abraham countered.

"Okay, that's enough!" Rick interjected. "I, for one, am interested in what these two have to offer. I understand what you've been through," he said to Abraham, "but I think it's important that we learn everything we can here."

Scully recovered from her shock at the sudden outburst and asked, "Is this about the cause of the outbreak? I assure you, I'm a doctor and a scientist in addition to an FBI agent. We truly do know what caused all of this. I give you my word."

Abraham reeled around and found himself nose to nose with Scully. "Scientist? A goddamn scientist? Funny thing is, that sounds familiar to me. Tell me, Rick," he said without breaking his eye contact with Scully, "where have I heard this story before?"

"Hey, now listen," Rick began trying to reign Abraham in.

Abraham interrupted, "Oh, yes! Now I remember. It was our dear friend Eugene. Good old Eugene who I nearly died for at least a dozen times. Our buddy old pal Eugene who led us on a wild goose chase. Well I'll tell you what, sweetheart," he said, thrusting his finger in Scully's face. "Here's your word. You can have it back." He turned quickly on his heels and made to storm out of the house.

Scully felt offended and defensive. "Hey, now wait a minute! I don't even know this Eugene. You can't hold me responsible for whatever he did." Abraham stopped walking, but didn't turn around and was clearly still seething. "Everything I've told Rick and Daryl is true and there's a lot more to the story than what I've told them. If you don't want to know what caused the outbreak, that's fine. But I will tell you for a fact that we have evidence. Now, you can choose to believe me or not. You can choose to come with me or not. But, Daryl, if you're still willing, I very much want to go find that evidence and prove that we can be trusted."

The boy with the eye patch, who had been silent and motionless through all of this, finally spoke up. "I'm coming with you."

"Carl," Rick said, turning to address the young man..

"No, Dad, I need to go. If there's proof of what caused all this, then I want to see it for myself." Carl stood his ground. Rick paused and seemed to look to the woman with the sword for guidance.

She answered the question he had silently asked her.. "I'll go too."

"Michonne," Rick said, shaking his head.

"I think it's a good idea." Michonne sounded calm and reasonable. "We need supplies. They want to find their evidence. Carl needs to feel comfortable outside these walls. He hasn't been outside since that night." At this statement Scully watched as all the strangers in the room took pause. Clearly they were all remembering "that night," whatever that meant to them.

"Fine." Rick sounded as though he had made a decision. "Daryl, you Michonne and Carl will take Mulder and Scully to D.C. Make sure you bring back some food. If you can find whatever evidence they're looking for along the way, all the better."

"Well then I'm coming too," Abraham announced. The rest of the group looked at him in a little bit of disbelief.

Carol balked at him. "What, now all of a sudden you're a believer?"

"I never said I'm a believer." Abraham looked toward Mulder and Scully with a menacing grin. "But if you're all going then I'm not going to miss out on all the fun."


	6. Chapter 6

Michonne and Carl headed back to their house. Rick and Daryl lingered in the street outside Mulder and Scully's house discussing logistics of the D.C. trip. Carol and Abraham went off in their own separate directions. Once Michonne observed that she and Carl were alone-aside from Carl's baby sister, Judith-she took the opportunity to get more information out of him. "So what is this really about?"

Carl gave her a sideways glance and asked suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"Why are you so eager to go on this run?"

"It's like I said, I want to know what caused the outbreak. And you had a good point back there. I need to feel comfortable outside of the walls. Losing my eye puts me at a disadvantage. I need to learn how to overcome that."

Michonne was silent, waiting for more. When Carl didn't offer anything more she asked, "So this has nothing to do with Enid?"

Carl stopped walking and looked at the ground, feeling a little embarrassed that she could see through his motives so easily. "She's been gone so long. I'm worried about her. I know she can take care of herself, but I feel like I'm part of the reason she left." He looked up at Michonne. "I think you're part of the reason too." He wasn't trying to place blame. He just wanted Michonne to feel invested in tracking down Enid with him.

"And how do you figure that?"

"Well, you did kill her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend? The one who shot you in the face? Would you rather I gave him another chance to finish you off?"

Carl wrinkled up his nose at her sarcastic tone. "You know what I mean. Of course I'm glad you protected me. It's just, Enid's been through so much. She has a really hard time getting close to people. I think she ran away as some sort of emotional defense mechanism. I just want to know that she's safe."

Michonne took a deep breath and put her arm around Carl's shoulders. They continued their walk back toward their home. "Yeah, I know. I want to know she's safe too." They looked at each other and shared a smile. "Why else would I be going with you?"

Back at Mulder and Scully's house, the two were trying to rest up as much as they could before setting out on their journey the next day. It was a luxury to be able to sleep in a house, on a bed, without the threat of being attacked by walkers. Scully had just sat down on the bed when she heard a knock at the front door. She opened her bedroom door and met Mulder in the hallway, also wondering who their visitor was. "What now?" he asked her.

They proceeded downstairs together and opened the front door to find Denise standing on their porch. "The good doctor!" Mulder greeted her. "What brings you to our humble abode?"

Denise looked embarrassed. She fidgeted nervously. "Um, I had a question. For, um, Doctor Scully."

Scully felt bad for Denise and wanted to make her feel more comfortable. "Please," she said. "You can call me Dana."

"Okay. Dana." Denise took a deep breath. "I have a question for you about your medical experience." She gave Scully a searching look. "Have you ever done prenatal care?"

Scully was surprised by the question and for a moment she misunderstood. "Are you..." Scully began to ask her question, but hesitated.

Denise interrupted her. "Oh, no! Not me. I'm not pregnant." Denise laughed. _If they only knew_ , she thought to herself. "No, it's Maggie. She's about 36 weeks along, I think. I've been doing the best I can for her, but…" she trailed off.

Scully felt momentarily embarrassed about her misunderstanding, but then she responded. "I have some prenatal experience. I've assisted with deliveries. I'd be happy to pay her a visit, if that's what you're asking." Scully refrained from mentioning her own pregnancy. She didn't like to share any information about her son with strangers. Even all these years later, it was still too painful. In her mind she started calculating how old William would be now. Sixteen. Almost seventeen.

Denise's voice helped her shake off the memories. "That's great!" Her relief was evident. "It's just, I heard you were leaving tomorrow, so I wondered if you could see her before you go. This is just so far out of my comfort zone. I'm in way over my head." It felt good to admit it out loud.

"I could come by in the morning before we set out, if that works for you and Maggie."

"That would be great! I'll come and get you and we can have a little appointment in the infirmary." Scully agreed and with that Denise left feeling much more at ease than before.

After she left, Mulder addressed Scully with a smirk. "And you thought you had nothing to offer. Sounds like these people might need you as much as you think you need them."

Scully gave him a playful punch on the arm, but she agreed he had a point. "Let's get some rest," she said and they both headed back upstairs.

After hammering out some of the details of the trip with Rick, Daryl made his way to the house he sometimes shared with Carol. Daryl didn't have a permanent home exactly. He mostly just stayed wherever suited him at the time. He didn't really think of Alexandria as a town. It was their base. It was where they gathered for now. But even with all the months they had stayed here, it never felt like home to him. Partly it was because he knew it was pointless to get attached to a place. Nothing in this world was permanent or guaranteed. There would come a day when Alexandria couldn't be protected anymore. When that day came, Daryl would be ready to move on.

He went into the kitchen to see if he could find a little something to eat. As he was rummaging through the cupboards, Carol came up behind him. "I made a casserole. There are some leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

Daryl gave her a grateful smile and headed for the refrigerator. "Thanks. We didn't have much to eat on the last run." He and Aaron packed light when they went out together. For one thing, there just weren't a lot of supplies in Alexandria for them to take with them. Also, they didn't want to have too much with them in case they had a run in with some bad people. There were more bad people out there than good as far as Daryl could tell. They had been gone three days this time. That was about the average length of one of their excursions. He always came back famished.

He was sitting down at the kitchen table to eat some of Carol's leftovers when Carol asked, "So why do you want to get back out there so soon? What's the rush?" She had that concerned look in her eye again. It was almost motherly. He didn't like making her worry, but he didn't really feel like explaining himself.

"We need supplies. You've seen what the pantry looks like. We're getting down to bare bones. I've got to bring back something." He hoped that would appease her.

"But why do you have to turn around and head back out tomorrow? You just got back this morning. Don't you think you should rest up for a bit? Get your strength back?" She wasn't going to let this go.

"It's not just the supplies. It's also Mulder and Scully." He shook his head, still frustrated with himself for not being able to read them better. "They're here with our people right now. I feel like we can trust them, but if I'm wrong, the sooner we find out the better. Do you feel comfortable sleeping right next door to them, not knowing if they're telling the truth?"

Carol thought that over. "No, I guess not. You're right. We do need to make sure we can trust them. I just wish you didn't have to run off so soon." She gave him a resigned smile.

"I'll stay here tonight," he offered as a small consolation. "And we'll be back pretty quick. It shouldn't take us too long to get to D.C. from here. I just hope we can find some supplies along the way."

"Okay." She wasn't happy about it, but she could tell he had made up his mind. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. You know how the big cities are. You're likely to run across a lot of walkers."

"Nothing we haven't handled before. Besides, Abraham's got my back."

Abraham made his way to the armory. If he was going on this ridiculous mission he was going to need some heavy firepower. As he approached the armory door he was headed off by a beautiful young woman with a fiery look in her eye.

"Hey," Rosita said as she approached him. "I heard you're leaving tomorrow."

"Yup, going on another grade-A idiotic adventure. Wanna come along for the ride?" He flashed her a smile, already knowing what her answer would be.

"Not really." She was calm, but had an anguished look about her. "I'm not too sure why you're going either."

"Well then that makes two of us, darling" Abraham had been asking himself why he volunteered for this excursion. In the moment it had been a knee-jerk reaction. If he didn't volunteer to go then he felt like he was conceding something to Scully. He could still back out if he wanted to. Nobody would hold it against him. But for some reason he felt he couldn't. He had to follow through on this, even if he hadn't quite figured out why.

When he and Rosita had played the part of Eugene's human shields, their destination had been Washington D.C. Eugene had convinced them he was a scientist and that he knew what caused the outbreak. Not only that, but he had a cure. All he had to do was get to the lab in D.C. and he would be able to set the world right again.

However, they never made it to the capital. Before they arrived Eugene finally confessed that it had all been a lie. Eugene was not and had never been a scientist. What he was in actuality was nothing more than a coward. He was afraid to die and he was unable to defend himself. He had used them. He risked their lives to save his own. If Maggie hadn't been there to intervene, Abraham might have killed Eugene. They had since settled into an uncomfortable coexistence. But Abraham hadn't forgiven him and he didn't plan on it.

"Tell you what, I'll bring you back a souvenir." Abraham was expecting Rosita to try to talk him out of going. In a way he was hoping she would.

She shook her head solemnly. "Just bring yourself back in one piece. That's the only souvenir I need." She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a small kiss on the lips.

"I'll see if I can manage that." Abraham kissed her back and they headed off toward the home they shared together. The armory could wait until morning.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning Scully and Denise walked into the infirmary to meet the very pregnant Maggie and her husband, Glenn. As they walked in Maggie looked up at Scully hopefully. She has always envisioned herself becoming a mother one day, but she had never imagined that these would be the circumstances under which it would actually happen.

She had imagined it would be like any normal pregnancy. She assumed she would deliver in a hospital surrounded by doctors and nurses. Now it was likely she would have her baby right here in this infirmary. Maggie knew she was lucky, given the current state of the world. They were relatively safe within the walls of Alexandria. The conditions were fairly clean. Of all the places they had tried to call home since the outbreak, this was the most ideal place for her child to be born.

Her mind started to drift back to the day Carl's baby sister had been born. That had been a dark day. She closed her eyes and tried to press those memories out of her mind. She couldn't think about that right now.

"You must be Dana," Maggie greeted Scully. "I'm Maggie. Pleased to meet you."

Scully smiled warmly. "It's very nice to meet you too, Maggie.. Congratulations," she said, gesturing to Maggie's bulging profile. "I hear you're about 36 weeks along."

"We think that sounds about right," Glenn interjected. He was anxious. He didn't know anything about this woman, but he was very hopeful that she'd be able to assist Maggie in some way. He wanted only the best for his family.

"Well why don't you tell me a little bit about your pregnancy so far?" Scully inquired.

Denise gave a rundown of the basic details. This was Maggie's first pregnancy. So far it had been fairly uneventful. Everything seemed normal. Scully reviewed all of Denise's notes and then approached Maggie to examine her. She took her blood pressure and measured her belly.

"You're measuring a little small for 36 weeks, but not so small as to be a cause for concern." She searched Maggie's face, trying to get a sense of how she felt emotionally. "I hope you won't take offense, but you look exhausted."

Maggie let out a long exhale. "I am," she admitted. "The thing is we don't have a lot of food. It's hard to keep my energy up without much protein." Maggie had been worried throughout the pregnancy about what her poor nutrition and her stress levels may be doing to her developing baby. She had many fears and doubts about bringing a baby into this world, but she knew that those types of worries couldn't be healthy.

Scully, saw the fret in Maggie's expression. "I'm sure you're doing the best you can," Scully reassured her. "Are you on bedrest right now?"

Maggie let out a small, sardonic laugh. "There's no such thing around here. We're a pretty large community with very few resources. Everyone has to pitch in."

Scully gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand. However, it's in my professional opinion that you should be on bed rest starting right now. You should remain so until the baby arrives. You can't afford to burn calories you don't have. I'm sure everyone in the community will support you in this. It's in the best interest of your baby."

Maggie and Glenn looked to each other and nodded their silent agreement to one another. Glen turned to Scully and said, "We heard you're going on a run today. We were wondering if you could look for something while you're out there."

"I can certainly try," Scully replied.

"We're worried about when the baby comes," Glenn continued. "We're afraid of what would happen if there were a complication." He gripped Maggie's hand. "If she needed a cesarean." Maggie closed her eyes and tried to block out the memory of Carl's little sister, Judith; of Judith's mother Lori. She pushed the memories away as best she could. When she opened her eyes Glenn went on. "We were hoping you might be able to find some anesthesia that would be safe for Maggie and the baby. We don't have anything like that here." He gestured to the dwindling medical supplies in the infirmary.

Scully nodded. "I will see what I can find."

"Thank you," Glenn said, giving Maggie what he hoped was a reassuring look.

"Anything else?" Scully asked.

"One other thing," Maggie began.

"No," Glenn interrupted, already knowing what Maggie would request.

"Glenn, we have to be realistic," she protested firmly.

"It's not going to come to that." Glenn was adamant.

Maggie addressed Scully. "Can you see if you can find some baby formula. In case I don't survive the labor. I need to know my baby won't starve." Glenn looked crestfallen. Maggie felt bad that she had to say their worst fear out loud, but she had to make sure they had a back up plan.

Scully understood the concern and wanted to put their minds at ease. "I'll tell you what," she offered. "I'll see if I can find some baby formula just in case you have some complications with nursing."

She was impressed that Scully was willing to comply with her request, while at the same time assuaging Glenn's dread. She and Glenn hadn't talked much about what would happen if she were to die in childbirth. He didn't want to even consider it. Maggie was more practical. She had to be, after her experience with Lori. Again, she pushed Lori out of her thoughts. Maggie beamed at Scully, grateful that this woman had come into their lives right when they needed her most.

The infirmary door opened and everyone turned to see Daryl standing in the doorway. "It's about time to head out.," he announced. "Are you ready?"

Scully nodded. She turned to Maggie and said, "Remember, rest up. Drink plenty of water. Don't over exert yourself. We should be back before too long." She glanced back at Daryl momentarily. "Provided we're allowed to stay here for a while, I'd be honored to help deliver your baby." She didn't want to make any promises to this young mother that she couldn't keep, but she wanted desperately to be accepted into this community. She also felt seeing Maggie through her labor would help her overcome something personally within herself.

"We'll see you back here real soon." Maggie also hoped to be seeing more of Scully around Alexandria.

Before Scully left Glenn felt he needed to explain himself somehow. "Listen, I would normally be going on this run with you guys. But she's so far along. I don't want to leave her. I can't risk missing the birth."

Scully gave him an approving look. "You're doing the right thing. You're a good husband. You're going to be a wonderful father."

Glenn smiled at Maggie and repeated the word, "father." It sounded strange to him, but strange in a good way. He assumed he'd get used to the title.

Scully said her goodbyes to the young couple and to Denise and she and Daryl made their way toward the gate. There they met up with Mulder who was looking impatient; almost bored. He was standing with Michonne, Carl, and a reluctant looking Abraham. They were standing outside a minivan that waited to take them on their excursion. Daryl's motorcycle was positioned nearby.

As Scully and Daryl approached Abraham announced, "I'm piloting this hunk of junk." He motioned with his thumb to the minivan. "You riding with us, or are you taking the hog?" he asked Daryl.

Daryl looked toward his beloved motorcycle then looked Mulder up and down, weighing his options. "Guess I'll ride with you." He rarely passed up an opportunity to take his bike out, but he wanted to use every moment he could with Mulder and Scully to try to figure them out. If they had an ulterior motive he was determined to find out what it was.

"Alright, load her up!" Abraham climbed into the driver's seat. Carl took shotgun. Michonne, Daryl, Scully, and Mulder climbed in back. Abraham fired up the engine of the van and Eugene opened the gate for them. Abraham took one last look over his shoulder to address his companions. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's rock and roll."


	8. Chapter 8

"Stop the van!" Scully cried out. They had been on the road for several hours and were starting to enter more urban terrain. Most of the trip so far had passed in silence, which made Scully's sudden outburst that much more startling. Abraham slammed on the breaks. "Can you back up about half a block?" she requested.

Abraham gave her an impatient look in the rear view mirror. Scully added, "Please."

Reluctantly he put the minivan in reverse and backed up several yards.

"There!" Scully was pointing down an alleyway between two buildings. Half way down the alley was a large, white vehicle with double doors at the back and a horizontal red stripe across the middle. Scully had spotted an ambulance.

"What are you thinking?" Daryl inquired from the far back seat of the minivan.

"Glenn asked if I could look for some medical supplies for Maggie and the baby. We should see if it's still stocked."

Abraham let out an impatient sigh. "We?" he asked her.

An irritated expression flashed across Scully's face. Mulder spotted it and intervened. " _I'll_ go see if it's still stocked."

"I've got your back," Scully said. She put her hand on her knife in its sheathe. They had been given back their meager weapons for the journey.

Mulder slid the door of the van open and he and Scully stepped out, heading toward the alley entrance. Daryl got out as well, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, but he waited by the van. He watched as the two approached the back doors of the ambulance. He observed their body language, how they communicated silently. They knew how to handle themselves. Mulder motioned to Scully that he was going to try to open the right door. Scully stood to the left. They both had their knives ready.

Mulder pulled the handle and was greeted by an all too familiar sound. It was the distinct angry growl of a walker. Mulder flung the door open and both he and Scully took a step back, not wanting the monster inside to fall on top of them. A decomposing corpse in an EMT uniform stumbled out of the ambulance, falling face down on the ground in the process. From its position on the ground it grabbed Scully's ankle. She used her other foot to kick it in the head, giving her just enough time to lean down and plunge her knife in the base of its skull. The creature went limp and released its grip on her ankle. She stepped back and tried to catch her breath.

There was just a brief moment of silence before they heard another growl from inside the ambulance. There was a patient, a young girl in a nightgown, who was strapped to the gurney within. Scully closed her eyes for a brief second. She had seen so many horrific things in her life. But every time that had come across something like this that had happened to a child was always too much for her. Mulder didn't hesitate. He climbed into the back of the ambulance and put his knife through the girl's temple. She lay back on the gurney, lifeless.

Mulder glanced back at Scully, who was attempting to gain her composure just outside the ambulance door. He leaned forward to offer her a hand up into the vehicle when another hand appeared from the other side of the open ambulance door and grabbed her by the shoulder. Mulder seized Scully's hand and pulled her forward into the ambulance. The walker who had reached for her came around the door and started crawling into the cramped space in the back of the vehicle with them. Mulder kicked it in the face, but it kept coming. It was difficult to defend themselves in such a small space, but Scully managed to bury her knife in its eye and it ceased its pursuit. It fell away from her with her knife still lodged in its skull.

No sooner had they eliminated that threat than two more walkers came around from either side of the van. They must have been further down the alley and were attracted by all the commotion. Mulder attempted to reposition his knife to better attack from this awkward position they were in, but he dropped it. He and Scully both scrambled for it at the same time and ended up kicking it forward, toward the oncoming intruders. A third walker appeared behind the two that were already at the rear of the vehicle, attempting to gain entrance.

Mulder's heart was pounding hard in his ears. They were trapped. He couldn't think. He felt like he couldn't breathe. This couldn't be the end.

Then, suddenly, the closest walker froze and fell forward. There was a bolt from Daryl's crossbow lodged squarely in the back of its head. A second bolt sailed into the back of another walker's skull and protruded through its eye. That assailant dropped to the ground. Daryl rushed forward and withdrew a large hunting knife from his belt. He raised it high with both hands and jammed it straight into the top of the third walker's head. As he pulled back to reclaim his knife another monster fell onto Daryl from behind, nearly knocking him to the ground. There were another two approaching from either side of the ambulance.

Daryl swung around wildly and managed to pierce the face of the attacking corpse, which was enough to bring it to a halt. No sooner did he push the dead one off of himself than the other two approaching were nearly on him. He didn't have to think long about how to defend himself. The rest of the crew had run the distance from the minivan down the alley and Michonne quickly lay waste to the two walkers with her sword. Carl helped Daryl up off the ground and Abraham swung himself up onto the roof of the ambulance. From that vantage point he could see eight more bodies in the alley, trying to make their way around the ambulance. He raised his semiautomatic weapon and, with a wicked grin, picked off each of the oncoming walkers one by one.

Suddenly the alley was quiet. For several moments no one moved. They were waiting to see if they could hear any other incoming threats. Finally Mulder looked Daryl in the eye and, breathing heavy, whispered, "Thank you."

Abraham climbed down from the ambulance and was almost immediately in Daryl's face. "This is exactly the kind of bullshit I was worried about," he snarled. "You don't even know these people. Yet here you go, running ass-over-teakettle into an alley full of walkers to save their hides. Why would you risk your life for perfect strangers."

Daryl defended his actions. "What should I have done, just let them die? They're human beings! It was the right thing to do." Abraham didn't respond, but he didn't back down either. "Besides," Daryl continued, "they were just trying to help Glenn and Maggie." Abraham broke his eye contact, knowing that Daryl was right. Daryl looked over Abraham's shoulder to Mulder who was still inside the ambulance and added, "And I trust them."


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl sat in the back of the minivan doing his best to read off the names of the medicine bottles they had collected from the ambulance. It had been fairly reasonably well stocked thanks to the poor lost souls that had been trapped inside, warding off the average looter.

"This one says buppy-vuh-cane?" He pronounced it phonetically.

"Bupivacaine?" Scully questioned.

"I guess." Daryl handed her the bottle.

Scully examined the label and let out a long relieved exhale. She gripped the bottle tightly in her hand, thankful for its existence. "This will work. Between this and the antibiotics we're in really good shape." She had checked one thing off her list for Maggie and Glenn. She was unsure if their evidence about the outbreak would still be there when they arrived at their destination. But this tiny bottle of hope meant that they wouldn't return to Alexandria empty handed.

They were almost to the Potomac River and would be crossing into Washington D.C. soon. The approach was the same as they had seen for every major city. The highway leading out of D.C. was a parking lot of abandoned vehicles. The road leading in was more or less clear. Mulder examined the cars and trucks all lined up to make the exit they never achieved. All of them had some destination in mind. They hadn't known that it would be the same no matter where they went. They just knew that they had to escape like ants when the ant hill caves in. All of them scrambling despite the hopelessness of their situation. Mulder wondered how it was that he and Scully were able to get out with their lives. He also wondered if they were foolish to be heading back in.

Scully guided Abraham to the main entrance of the FBI building. They stopped the van about a block away and took in the sight of a wandering herd of walkers milling around the front plaza. The entrance had been barricaded off some time ago and there were still a few SWAT team members in riot gear among the dead. There had been an attempt to protect this place and the people in it. But just like every other place they'd seen since the outbreak, the defenses didn't hold.

Daryl tapped Mulder on the shoulder. "Do you know another way in?"

"There are several other doors. Why don't we drive around the back and see if any of them are less populated." Abraham slowly drove the van around to the back side of the enormous building, trying not to move too quickly so as to avoid drawing the walkers' attention.

As they made their way to the back of the building Mulder's attention drifted to another time. Seeing this place again, even in such a desolate state, flooded him with memories. He felt awash with grief for the life he used to have here. He missed the mundanity of daily existence in a world where everyone walked around in blissful ignorance. He missed feeling like he could make a difference. He missed the search for the truth. Then the crushing guilt set in again. Why couldn't he have prevented this? He should have been able to stop it.

Daryl noticed his far away stare. "Are you okay, man?"

Mulder replied but he was clearly not entirely in the present. "Do you ever feel like you're stuck inside of someone else's dream?" Daryl wasn't sure how to answer that question, but Mulder didn't wait for a reply. "It's like I was walking around in this reality my whole life, but the rest of the world couldn't accept it. Now acceptance is undeniable, even though most of the world has ceased to exist. Still, the people remaining can no longer deny the truth. But now I'm the one who can't seem to believe it. It's not even like I'm dreaming. It's like someone else is dreaming and I'm just along for the ride."

Daryl looked to Scully for some kind of guidance as to how he should respond. Scully just shook her head. She never knew how to talk to him when he got like this.

Daryl thought for a moment and then said, "I think I kind of feel the opposite." His response snapped Mulder out of his reverie and he turned to face Daryl.

"How so?" Mulder asked.

"I feel like most of my life was someone else's dream. I was never at the wheel. None of it felt real. My choices weren't really mine to make. But now? I guess I feel like I woke up." Mulder seemed somehow comforted by Daryl's answer.

"We might be able to get in right up there," Mulder announced, pointing toward a maintenance door. Abraham slowed the van and they all examined the small metal door that might be their best chance at getting into this building. There were half a dozen walkers near the doorway. None of them seemed to notice the van or its occupants yet.

They hashed out a quick plan. Michonne and Daryl would take out the walkers. Then Abraham would open the door, which was presumably locked, while the remaining five members of the team would cover him.

They stepped out of the van and Michonne approached the nearest monster with her sword drawn and acted quickly. She silently cut the top of its head clean off with a single stroke of the blade. The next closest walker was drawn to the movement and she let it approach. She stabbed the tip of her sword through its skeletal face as it approached. She kicked it in the stomach and it fell backward, freeing her weapon in the process.

As she raised it for her next attack, Daryl's crossbow bolt sailed passed her and found its target in the forehead of the next walking corpse. He ran forward stealthily and retrieved his bolt with his left hand while raising his knife with his right hand. Michonne ran along side him and they both attacked the fourth and fifth monsters simultaneously, leaving one more between them and the door. Michonne spun on her heels and gave the final walker a clean, backhanded slice through the the face.

She and Daryl paused, examining each other. They were both spattered in blood and brains, but we're otherwise unscathed. Michonne gave a tiny nod toward the rest of the crew and they ran quickly and quietly to the door. Abraham approached with a crowbar and placed his hand on the door handle. Daryl and Michonne flanked him on one side and Mulder and Scully on the other side. Carl stood directly behind him, scanning the street for any additional threats.

Abraham tried the handle and, surprisingly, the door was unlocked. He turned to face Daryl as he pulled the door open and said, "What do you know? Looks like we finally caught a break." As the words exited his mouth he found himself immediately flat on his back. The undead remains of a janitor were on top of him. The crowbar clattered against the pavement. His gun was slung over his shoulder and trapped underneath him. His knife was in his belt. He was defenseless. Abraham used all his strength to hold the beast at arms length as it struggled to make a meal out of his flesh.

The rest of the group was equally stunned by the sudden appearance of the walker. They all jumped to react but Mulder got there first. He swung his knife up and brought it down hard into the base of the janitor's skull. It fell lifeless on top of Abraham's body, pinning him to the ground. Daryl swung to door fully open to ensure there were no more walkers immediately inside. Mulder pushed the body off of Abraham who drew in a deep breath. As he exhaled he began to laugh. He was hysterical. Mulder looked to Daryl questioningly, wondering if Abraham was in shock. Daryl simply shook his head. Abraham was just unpredictable.

Mulder asked, "Are you okay?"

Abraham let out another hoot of laughter before saying, "I'm okay." Then he looked Mulder in the eyes. "And you know what? So are you." Mulder gave him a half smile and extended his hand to help him up.

Abraham examined the rest of his crew and gave a quick nod of his head. Then to Mulder he said, "Alright, chief. Lead the way."

Mulder and Scully entered the building first since they were familiar with the floor plan. The rest of the group followed in formation. The building was massive. There was no way they could hope to clear the whole thing. It was very likely that there were a lot more walkers inside. On the plus side, the presence of walkers meant a lower likelihood of finding a human threat within.

They filed down hallway after hallway until they found the stairwell that would lead them down to Mulder and Scully's basement office. Mulder made for the stairs, but Scully placed a hand on his shoulder, halting him.

"Wait," she said quietly. She drew everyone's attention to the emergency exit map posted nearby. She tapped her finger on the little square that was labeled as the cafeteria. "There may still be some food in there." The rest of the group started to head in the direction of the cafeteria when Scully stopped them again. She pointed to another square on the map. It was unlabeled. "This used to be an employee daycare center. There might be some baby formula there." She hadn't forgotten Maggie's request.

They agreed to split up and meet back at the stairwell. Mulder, Scully, and Daryl would go to the daycare. Carl, Michonne, and Abraham would head to the cafeteria. The teams broke off and headed in opposite directions.

Daryl led the way to the nursery, followed closely behind by Scully. Mulder brought up the rear. He was keeping a close eye on Scully. He reasoned she was probably feeling a lot of mixed emotions about being back in this building, just as he was. He was also worried about how she would react if they arrived at the daycare and found it filled with undead children. He understood her dread about seeing the horrors that occurred for these kids. It reminded her of their son. She was haunted, never knowing what became of him after they gave him up for adoption. All they had wanted to do was protect him. Now they would never know if they had succeeded at protecting him or not.

Daryl approached the door to the daycare and looked to Scully for confirmation that this was the right room. Scully nodded affirmatively and the three of them braced themselves for what might be waiting for them inside. Daryl raised his crossbow and pushed the door open.

For a moment everything was quiet. The three of them entered the room, scanning for threats. The smell alone told them that this room was not empty. Slowly the snarls began and the walkers within began to stir at the sound of the intruders. A woman rose from the floor behind a small table. She was followed by a man who emerged from behind the counter of the small kitchen in the corner of the room. They moved sluggishly. The longer these creatures had been dead and the more time they went without feeding, the slower they moved. These two clearly hadn't had anything to feed on for a very long time. Daryl put a bolt through the head of the female walker. Mulder took care of the male with his knife. Then the three of them cleared the room. It seemed to be otherwise empty. There were no children here.

Scully felt relief. It was hard enough for her to look around at all the tiny chairs and tables, the children's books and toys. She didn't think she could take the sight of another lost child today. She started going through the kitchen cupboards. There were a lot of plastic dishes, a scant assortment of canned goods, some baby bottles. That gave her some hope. She pulled out everything she planned on taking with her and continued her search. In one of the lower cupboards she found jars of pureed baby food. At the back of the same cupboard she spotted three tins of powdered baby formula. "I found some!" she called out, getting on her hands and knees to reach the back of the cupboard. Mulder stood behind her and she handed the tins up to him one by one. As she reached for the third can a tiny hand emerged from the darkness and tried to grab the tin from her.

Scully shrieked and jumped backward, clutching the final tin of formula to her chest. She kicked the cupboard door shut and erupted into tears. She wasn't sure what she had just seen. Mulder cradled her in his arms and tried to muffle her sobs by holding her close to his chest. Daryl stepped over the two of them huddled on the floor and peeked into the cupboard Scully had slammed shut. Inside he saw that all the lower cupboards were interconnected and jammed in the tight space was a young boy. He looked to be about four or five years old. He had probably been asked to hide in here by the two adults when they were all still alive.

Daryl shut the cupboard again. He looked to Mulder, unsure of what he should do. They had what they came for. They could just leave. He wasn't sure if it would be more upsetting to Scully to put this boy out of his misery or to leave him the way they found him. Daryl raised his knife and gestured toward the closed cupboard door, questioningly. Mulder nodded to confirm they couldn't leave the child like this.

Daryl opened the cabinet door and looked into the writhing, rotten face of the poor little boy. Mulder held Scully close and covered her ears as Daryl pushed his knife through the child's forehead. He gently shut the cupboard door, leaving the child inside, peaceful at last. He rifled through the kitchen drawers until he found a bag and began collecting the supplies Scully had set out. When he had packed everything he pointed toward the last tin of formula, which Scully was still clutching to herself.

Mulder shook his head. "Let's just rest here for a minute." Daryl agreed and took a seat on the floor and waited for Scully's weeping to subside.


	10. Chapter 10

Abraham burst into the cafeteria, trailed closely by Michonne and Carl. The three of them surveyed the scene. They were in a large open room filled with long tables and benches. Against the walls were rows of steam tables where food would have been served. On the far wall was a set of swinging double doors that probably led to the kitchen. As the three of them entered they were nearly knocked backward by the stench of death. Roaming among the tables were eight walkers, young and old, men and women. All their heads turned to face the trio that had just entered their domain.

Abraham grinned as they all began to approach in unison. "Come and get it," he said, raising his knife in preparation. He rushed forward and took great pleasure in slashing through the first two oncoming walkers. Michonne moved to the right and sliced through three corpses within seconds.

Carl stayed where he was. He raised his pistol with its silencer attached and picked off two walkers near the far end of the room. He had a machete at his hip, but he only used it as a last resort. Losing his right eye had effected his depth perception, which made him nervous about close range attacks. But he was still an excellent shot with his gun.

Abraham jammed his knife into the last walker's temple and then quickly searched the rest of the room, looking under tables for any additional bodies. The room was clear. He turned to Michonne and Carl and asked, "Shall we?" They all looked toward the double doors.

Michonne nodded and they approached with caution. Michonne had searched many kitchens like this after the outbreak. They were all the same: dark, cramped spaces, filled with unwanted surprises. She wondered if this mission was even worth the trouble. But they had already come this far. They might as well find out if there were any supplies to be had. As they reached the doors Michonne tried to peer in through the small, clouded window in the right-hand door. It was too dark inside to make out anything. They would have to enter and take their chances.

Michonne pushed through the door with her sword held in front of her, ready to strike. The kitchen was made up of long rows of stainless steel food prep counters with tall shelves separating the rows. Along one wall were two large ovens with grill tops. There were no windows inside. The only light came from the door which Carl was still holding open. Abraham entered the kitchen and he and Michonne split up, searching the rows for any sign of movement. All was quiet. The two of them circled back around to where Carl was still holding the door ajar. Michonne asked Abraham, "Do you want to make another pass just to be sure?" This felt too easy. She was worried they had missed some imminent danger. Abraham agreed and again they combed the whole kitchen, row by row, looking for any threat. They circled back around to Carl. On the second pass they still didn't see a single sign of anyone, alive or dead.

"Looks like it's all clear." Abraham started opening cabinets and drawers, looking for any food that may still be edible. Michonne started toward the back of the kitchen to see if there was a pantry.

Carl then remembered that he had brought a small penlight with him. "Hey wait! Take this." He stepped forward into the kitchen as he called out to Michonne, letting the door swing shut behind him. Michonne turned around to see what he wanted her to take from him. Carl saw Michonne's face for only a split second before it was enveloped in darkness. He was struck by the sudden panic in her eyes. Something was very wrong. As the light from the closing door disappeared Michonne had just enough time to see a figure that had been standing behind the door fall forward toward Carl from his blind side.

In the instant that the darkness became complete, Michonne yelled, "Down!" Carl threw himself to the ground, rolling in midair so as to land on his back. He fired his gun into the darkness. As the light from the muzzle blast illuminated the room for a flash he saw it reflect off the blade of Michonne's sword. She swung it blindly where Carl had been standing only seconds before. There was a loud thud and then everything was quiet.

Abraham rushed to the door and swung it open to let the light pour back into the kitchen. While holding the door open, he turned to evaluate the scene. He saw Carl sprawled on the floor, gun still raised and breathing heavy. Beside Carl was the headless body of a badly decomposed walker. Michonne stood over Carl, sword still raised. They heard a growl from low to the ground nearby and they all startled. Carl looked to his left and saw the disembodied head of the attacking walker mere feet from where he lay on the ground. It's mouth was still grinding away. Michonne spun her sword around and gripped it with both hands, blade pointing downward. She plunged the tip through the brain and then kicked the head back toward its body.

Carl was in shock. His hands trembled, still tightly gripping his weapon. "I never saw it," he uttered. Michonne moved in to help him off the floor. "It was right next to me and I never saw it. I could be attacked from that side at any time and I would never know it was coming." He knew losing his eye had put him at a disadvantage, but this was the first time it had made him feel so completely vulnerable. His legs trembled as he attempted to find his footing.

"Hey," Michonne said trying to get Carl to focus on her rather than the dismembered carcass on the floor. "You're okay now. You're going to be okay. This is exactly why you need to come out here. Your other senses will become stronger. You'll learn how to compensate."

Carl shook his head. He wanted to believe her, but there were just so many perils in the world now. He had been just a boy when the outbreak occurred. It was a miracle he had survived this long. How could he expect to defend himself in this wasteland?

Michonne could see his confidence was gone. She wouldn't be able to bolster it right now. She tried comfort instead. "You will be able to overcome this. But I'll be right by your side just in case." He gave her a glimmer of a smile. Michonne was family. She was the closest thing he had to a mother on this planet. He knew she would do everything she could to protect him.

She gave him a small sideways hug and said, "Come on, let's find something to eat." Abraham propped the door open with the walker's limp foot so they wouldn't lose their light again. They headed toward the back in search of the pantry. Michonne stayed on Carl's right side, just in case.

At the back of the kitchen they found a large industrial refrigerator and a locked cabinet on wheels. They all knew not to open the refrigerator door. Anything in there would have spoiled long ago. Opening the door would only unleash a smell that would add to the already almost unbearable aroma permeating the kitchen. Abraham wielded his crowbar and popped open the doors to the cabinet. Inside they found bags of rice and flour, some canned vegetables, cooking oil, and various other staples. It wasn't much, but at least they wouldn't return empty handed.

"What do you think?" Michonne asked. "We could try to just wheel the whole thing out to the van."

Carl examined the sturdiness of the cabinet. "Let's at least see how far we can push it. It would be easier than making several trips back here."

"I would be very grateful to never make another trip back here." Michonne was anxious to meet up with the rest of their crew and get this mission over with.

As they pushed the cabinet back into the cafeteria Carl spotted a vending machine standing in in the corner near the entrance. "Hang on a second." He jogged over to the machine and shined his penlight inside. It was nearly empty but there were a few items still left inside. Carl extended his hand to Abraham, requesting the crowbar. He popped the door open and reached inside. He pulled out a couple candy bars and a package of peanut butter crackers.

Carl handed one of the candy bars to Michonne. "For your sweet tooth." He flashed her a smile

Michonne grinned in return and accepted the offering. "Well now this has all been worth the trip." She was glad to see him regain his composure and calm down a bit.

Carl shoved the peanut butter crackers inside his jacket pocket. Michonne eyed his bulging pocket teasingly. "Feeling hungry?"

Carl looked sheepish. "They're Enid's favorite. I thought I'd keep them for her. Just in case."

Michonne nodded with understanding and agreed, "Just in case."

Abraham was getting impatient. "Can we finish this love fest on the way to our next stop? I'd like to get out of here before my beard turns grey."

They grabbed a hold of the wheeled cart and headed back toward the stairwell where they would meet up with the other half of their team. Michonne stayed on Carl's right side. Just in case.


	11. Chapter 11

Daryl stood in front of a poster of a flying saucer that read "I want to believe." He turned to take in the rest of the X-files office. It was dusty, but otherwise neat and tidy. The room was cramped. There were stacks of papers and books everywhere, but it was all very organized. Abraham was pacing back and forth in front of the closed office door. Michonne and Carl sat on the floor nearby, resting comfortably against one another and looking particularly worse for wear after their cafeteria adventure. Scully was standing in front of an open filing cabinet, pulling out file after file and reviewing each one carefully. Daryl looked at Mulder sitting comfortably in the desk chair he had occupied during his years with the FBI. This space seemed more or less untouched, as if no one had so much as opened the door since the outbreak occurred.

Daryl picked up a framed photograph from the desk in front of Mulder. The picture was of Mulder and Scully posing with a balding man in glasses. They looked happy and at ease. Daryl glanced from the picture of a clean cut Mulder in a suit and tie to the Mulder who sat before him looking significantly scruffier. "You clean up pretty good," he said with a smirk. He handed the frame to Scully who had taken an interest and looked up from the documents she was rifling through.

Scully examined the photo solemnly, remembering the day it was taken. It was from another time in another world in another life. Feelings of nostalgia welled up inside her. "I wonder what happened to Skinner," she said to Mulder. "Do you think he made it out?"

Mulder didn't look at the photo. "I try not to think about things like that too much."

Scully knew he was right. It wasn't healthy to dwell of the people whose fate she would never know. But it was hard to avoid given that she felt like she had just stepped into her past. "It's just so strange being back in this place, as if nothing has changed. Don't you remember all the hours we spent down here together?"

Mulder looked around the office, taking it all in. "This was home," he agreed, giving her a sad smile. "But it's just a room now."

Scully glanced down at the photograph once more and then placed it back on the desk. She returned to the papers she had been looking through. Much to her relief, it looked as though the evidence they had collected was all still here. She had found the DNA test results and the documentation of the government experiments. Now she was looking for her analysis of the vaccines as well as the correspondence between the top government officials who had been behind the outbreak.

Abraham was getting impatient. "Hey, sister! Are we about done here? We've got to hit the road soon."

Michonne interjected, "It's getting dark outside. I think we should stay here for the night and head back in the morning." Abraham shot a glare in her direction. He clearly had no interest in spending the night in this basement office. Michonne gave him a confident stare, daring him to argue with her. He didn't.

He stopped pacing and slid down the wall to take a seat on the floor. "Alright, fine. If we're all going to be snuggled up together down here for the night, then maybe our friendly neighborhood scientist can tell us a bedtime story." Scully looked up from her papers, realizing he was talking about her.

"You're welcome to call me Dana or Scully." The words were kind enough, but she made no attempt to hide the irritation in her voice. She was tired of being referred to as "sweetheart" and "sister". But his implication that she still may not be telling the truth about her background in science was grating on her nerves. Especially after she had led him here and was holding the proof of the outbreak in her hands.

"Sorry," Abraham conceded reluctantly. "Scully," he continued, putting great emphasis on her name. "Would you care to share with the rest of the group what you've found there?"

Scully looked from Abraham to Daryl. "I thought I'd explain everything to Rick and the whole group when we got back." She knew this was going to be a very long story. She hadn't envisioned telling it twice.

"It's going to be a long night. Unless you have something better to do." Abraham pressed her further.

Carl chimed in much more politely. "I'd really like to hear about how it all started. If you don't mind."

Scully softened at Carl's request. She scooped up the files she had set aside so far and took a seat on the floor across from him. Everyone else followed her lead and sat down on the floor. It was eerily reminiscent of kids gathered around a campfire telling ghost stories.

Scully grabbed one of the files out of the stack and extracted a grainy old photograph to pass around. "I'm assuming you've all heard of Roswell, New Mexico."

Abraham scoffed. "Yeah, little green men. I've heard the stories." The photograph was passed to him and he asked, "What am supposed to be looking at here?"

"That's one of the only photos ever taken at the crash site of the alien spacecraft."

Abraham rolled his eyes. "Okay, here we go. Rick warned me you had some kind of spaceman, government conspiracy story to tell us. I hope this isn't your only proof." He made air quotes with his fingers when he said the last word. While he trusted Mulder more now than he had at the beginning of their journey, he was still very doubtful of Scully's credentials and her information.

Mulder gave Abraham a curious look. "Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

"Come on, man," Abraham replied. "You're talking about space aliens? That's the stuff of science fiction."

"Welcome to reality," Mulder quipped. When Abraham looked dismissive, Mulder continued. "Seriously, look around you. You're walking around in a post-apocalyptic wasteland filled with flesh-eating, undead monsters. We are literally talking about zombies here; the walking dead. You've seen them with your own eyes. Yet you're going to tell me intelligent life on other planets is impossible?"

Abraham looked a little embarrassed. He certainly couldn't argue Mulder's point. He looked to Scully and said, "Please, continue." His tone was only slightly less condescending.

Scully drew a deep breath. "After the spacecraft crashed in Roswell in 1947 the US government began conducting experiments using the technology and the DNA recovered from the crash site. We believe the experiments began as a way of analyzing the foreign life form. They wanted to know where it had come from, what it's planet was like, and what the implications were for humans. But it quickly turned into something much more frightening. They conducted human trials, combining segments of alien DNA with human DNA just to observe the outcome."

She pulled a booklet out of her stack of files and flipped to the first page. "This is what the sequence of a normal human's DNA looks like." She flipped through the remaining pages in the booklet. "The rest of these sequences are various combinations of human and alien DNA." She passed the booklet around the circle for everyone to examine.

"They kept records of the outcomes of all the tests. They were looking for changes in human chemistry and behavior. Many of the combinations were innocuous. However, one particular combination yielded very unusual results." Scully produced a transcript of the results of the relevant test to share with the group. "They were able to isolate an individual genome which they named _arcA_. When separated from its natural pair, _arcB_ , and combined with human DNA, it produced no immediate change in the test subjects. But after exposing those same test subjects to aluminum phosphide gas, they're immune systems essentially shut down. They had basically installed an off switch for one of the most vital functions of the human body. The test subjects died of things like very mild infections and the common cold and flu viruses."

Scully looked around to make sure her audience was following. "What made this particular genome special was that the test subjects didn't stay dead. Within two days they had all reanimated. This unexpected result led to the deaths of several of the scientists who had been conducting the experiments. It took almost a week for them to contain the situation and take back control of their lab. I honestly have no idea what results they were hoping to achieve with these experiments. But after this discovery, all their efforts focused on _arcA_. When test subjects received the complete original gene pairing, both _arcA_ and _arcB_ , the bond with human DNA still occurred, but the results were not the same. The humans who received both genomes were essentially immune to the aluminum phosphide trigger. That meant those test subjects had alien DNA, but the effects were completely benign."

Carl stopped her with a question. "Who were the test subjects? Did they sign up for this?"

Scully shuddered slightly at the thought of the answer she had to give him. "They didn't sign up for it, no. They were led to believe they had been abducted by aliens, when in fact they were abducted by their own government. Nearly every alien abduction reported in the US in the last 70 years can be tied to one of these experiments."

Carl looked sick at the thought. He swallowed hard and waited for Scully to continue.

"After they had done enough controlled experiments to understand the implications of this particular gene, they moved on to figuring out how to put it to use. Their goal was to get the partial strand of alien DNA into every American and potentially into everyone in the world."

Scully selected another folder from her documents. Holding up the first document in the file, she said, "This is a chemical analysis of the vaccine to protect against poliomyelitis which was discovered by Dr. Jonas Salk in 1953. And this," she held up a second document, "is my own analysis of a recent version of the polio vaccine which is commonly administered to every newborn baby within three months of birth." She indicated a visual discrepancy between the two analyses. "This anomaly seen in my analysis is the alien genome _arcA_. This gene was included in every polio vaccine in the world since 1962."

Scully paused and let the impact of this statement be absorbed by her circle of listeners. Everyone's eyes widened as the connection was made. "Rick told me what he learned about the outbreak from his visit to the CDC. The man he met there had called it a virus and said that everyone was already infected. Aside from the semantics, he wasn't too far off. It was a gene, not a virus. But we do all have this gene. It has been waiting inside all of us nearly since we were born."

Carl raised another question, this one with a sense of urgency. "What about babies born after the outbreak? What if a baby never received the polio vaccine." He was thinking of his baby sister, Judith.

Scully wished she had an answer for him. "I don't know," she replied. Carl looked defeated. She tried to offer him a little more information. "As far as I know there were never any studies done on inherited genetics of _arcA_ , but if it's similar to human genes, there's a possibility that a child may not inherit any given genetic marker, even if both parents were carriers. I wish I could tell you more."

Michonne put her arm around Carl, trying to offer him some comfort. He leaned his head on her shoulder.

Daryl, who had been intently listening to Scully's explanation, finally spoke up. "Why didn't everyone die? Why are we still here? If there was this trigger that turned off everyone's immune system, then why am I alive?"

Scully looked to Mulder searchingly, unsure of how much detail on that topic she should divulge. He gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. Scully answered, "Some people have naturally stronger immune systems that may not have shut down completely. Many people who are still alive are just lucky. They haven't been exposed to anything since the outbreak that would require an immune response." Daryl seemed satisfied by that answer.

There was a long silence. Scully waited for more questions, but they didn't come. Everyone was absorbing the knowledge she had just shared.

Finally Abraham broke the silence. "I think we've all had a long day. Why don't we try to get some rest for the journey home tomorrow? I'll take first watch." Everyone nodded and began to rise from their seats on the floor. Abraham was first on his feet and extended a hand to Scully to help her up.

"Thank you," she said, giving him a small smile.

"No, thank you," Abraham replied, still gripping her hand. He looked her directly in the eye and added, "Doctor Scully."


	12. Chapter 12

"Hey, man. Are you okay?" Daryl found Abraham in the hallway outside the X-files office, standing sentry. He stood at attention with his gun over his shoulder, looking every bit the image of the military sergeant he once was.

"I'm better than okay." He flashed Daryl a wide grin. He truly was much better than okay. He felt alive again. After the fiasco of learning Eugene was a fraud, Abraham had spiraled down a dangerous path. He had no direction. Without a purpose or a goal he was lost at sea. He was angry and the only outlet he had for his anger was slaying walkers. But that only gave him a brief respite from the rage that was burning within him.

Now, finding he could believe Scully, that she truly was a scientist, he had a sense of purpose again. He had a newfound energy and he would do whatever it might take to protect these two newcomers and the information they possessed.

Daryl felt relieved to see Mulder and Scully gaining acceptance into his group. He had meant it when he said he trusted them, but it wasn't his call to make in isolation. He needed the rest of his family to be on board before anyone new could be absorbed into their community. Daryl did still have something weighing on his mind though. "Have you seen Mulder?"

Their crew had taken over several of the adjacent basement offices to get some rest for the night. Abraham jutted his chin in the direction of the office currently occupied by Mulder. "Thanks," Daryl said, giving him a brotherly pat on the shoulder. "Let me know when you want me to take over the watch."

"That won't be necessary, hombre!" Abraham called after him as he walked down the hall. "I got this."

Daryl pushed open the door of a small office next to the X-files office. The room was bare, as though it had been vacant for a long time prior to the outbreak. Thinking about the outbreak brought many questions to the front of Daryl's mind. There was much he still wanted to know, such as the motives behind triggering the alien genome, the end game for those involved, and the possibility for a cure. But those weren't the questions Daryl had come to ask tonight.

Mulder had made a makeshift bed out of pilfered couch cushions on the floor and was laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. He sat up as Daryl entered the room. "Mr. Dixon! Step into my office. What can I do for you?" Mulder greeted him in an exaggerated professional manner.

Daryl searched Mulder's expression. In the short time he had known this man he'd observed many different sides of him. He could tell Mulder used sarcasm as a defense mechanism when people probed him for information. He could also be very deep and become lost in thought easily. He was able to present a very nonchalant front to strangers. But he seemed to have the potential to become manic, almost obsessive, when he cared deeply about something. One thing was for sure: this man cared about the truth. Daryl just hoped he would be able to get the truth out of him tonight.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Be my guest." Mulder scooted over on his improvised bed and motioned for Daryl to take a seat alongside him. Daryl hesitated. He wasn't exactly sure why. Something about sitting so close to Mulder made him feel uncomfortable. It wasn't lack of trust. It was something else he couldn't quite identify. He pushed the feeling aside and took the offered seat.

"I wanted to ask you about that first day when you came to Alexandria."

"You mean yesterday?" Mulder asked, teasingly.

Daryl felt dumbfounded. Had that really been just the day before? So much had happened between the previous morning and this evening. How could it be he felt he knew this man so well when it hadn't even been 48 hours since they first spoke?

He gave a small laugh at Mulder's ribbing comment. "Yeah, I guess I mean yesterday." There was a moment of silence where Daryl got lost in his memories of everything that had transpired on their journey.

Mulder interrupted his train of thought. "Sorry, did I miss the question?" He was still teasing.

Daryl cleared his throat to cover up his mild embarrassment. "It's about your interview with Rick. He asked you why you killed the one person you killed. You said you did it because you thought it could save us. How could it have saved us?"

A distinct darkness crossed Mulder's expression. Suddenly he was the one lost in thought. After a pause he asked his own question. "Have you ever heard the expression 'what's eating you alive might help you to survive'?" Daryl felt lost. He remembered that far away look Mulder had in the van earlier when he started talking about dreams. It was almost as if his thoughts took him to another planet. Mulder must have noticed Daryl's confused expression because he tried to explain himself further. "I thought this man was killing me, killing us. In essence he was. I was so sure that if I could end his life before he pushed us past the point of no return that we would all be saved. But killing him wasn't the answer. He was keeping me alive in the sense that as long as I was chasing him my hope for humanity was still alive. When I killed him I killed that part of myself too."

Daryl didn't feel satisfied with that answer. He pressed Mulder for more details. "Who was he? How did you know him?"

Mulder issued a long sigh, realizing there was no way he was getting out of reliving the moment that would likely plague him for the rest of his life. "He went by the name of Spender, although I doubt that was his real name. He used to be in charge of a government agency called the Syndicate. Their job was to keep aliens a secret. The Syndicate had been disbanded for almost two decades at the time of the outbreak, but he was still heavily involved. It was his life's work. He knew about all of it. Every alien landing, the government experiments, the possible colonization of alien planets, even the _arcA_ genome."

He took another pause. Daryl worried he was losing him so he thought to offer him a cigarette. He pulled a pack of Morleys out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Mulder. Mulder didn't take the pack, but he stared at it for a long time. "Where did you get these?" He hadn't seen that brand for a long time.

"Just found them somewhere. They're pretty old but they still burn. You want one?"

"Words cannot describe how much I do not want one." Mulder smiled. "But thanks for offering." Daryl didn't want to smoke alone, so he put the pack back in his pocket and waited for Mulder to continue.

Finally he went on. "This man, Spender, he was always one step ahead of me. No matter what conspiracy I found out about, no matter what evidence I uncovered, he already knew about it and he had some way to keep me from exposing it. We went on like that for years. I always thought I was the cat in that game, but he would come along and prove that I was the mouse all along.

"He knew Scully and I were aware of _arcA_. He knew we saw its potential. We had all the evidence Scully showed you tonight and more. We were going to go public with it. I thought that if the public knew about it that the government would have to back down." Mulder looked to Daryl as if he had just realized something for the first time. "You know, that was probably my first mistake."

Daryl waited for him to drift back to reality. He was already starting to get used to Mulder's quirks. He picked up as if he had never gotten sidetracked. "He tracked me down right when we were ready to go public with the information. It was usually me trying to chase after him, but this time he tracked me down. He'd had a tracheotomy. He was in a wheelchair. The cancer was literally breaking down his body. But, still, he found me. He told me it was useless. He told me we were finally on the same side. He was going to expose the whole world to what we knew. But that was only half true. We were never on the same side. His version of exposing the whole world was pulling the trigger and unleashing this outbreak.

"I asked him why he would want to do that; if he understood what the implications were. He told me that all people ever do in this world is destroy each other. 'We're eating each other alive,' he said. 'All I'm doing is accelerating the process.'" Mulder shook his head at how literal those words had been. "I'd known him too long to think he might be bluffing. He had never bluffed about anything in all the years I'd known him. That's when I decided to kill him. I thought that if I killed this man who had haunted me for my entire adult life, then he won't be able to release the most unspeakable evil this world has ever known."

Mulder looked into Daryl's eyes unapologetically. "So I killed him. I put a gun to that crippled man's head and I pulled the trigger." He dropped his gaze. Defeat was evident in his voice. "But it didn't make any difference. Once again he was one step ahead of me. He had already set everything in motion. There were aluminum phosphide storage facilities strategically placed in the most populated cities all over the world. They were the governments kill switch for the world, so to speak. At midnight, the same night that I killed him, the gas was released all over the world. That was followed by a domino effect of illness, death, reanimation, more illness, more death. You saw it for yourself I'm sure. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't save us. Any of us."

Daryl was in awe of how close Mulder had come to preventing the destruction of the world. He could see the guilt written all over Mulder's face. He wanted to relieve some of that guilt. He wanted to tell Mulder how he would have done the same thing. Daryl would have killed that man too. But somehow he didn't think that would help Mulder feel any better. Instead he said, "No, you did. You saved my life today." Mulder dismissed the idea with a shake of his head. "I bet you've saved tons of people along the way too. So you didn't stop the outbreak. At least you tried. All the rest of us were walking around this planet like sheep, never knowing what was coming. You knew and you tried to do something about it." Mulder wanted to buy into what Daryl was telling him. He didn't want to live with this guilt anymore. But it was so deeply rooted in who he was as a person. Daryl continued, "If you ask me this Spender dude took the easy way out."

Mulder looked up and locked his penetrating blue eyes on Daryl. "How do you figure?"

"You said he found you, even in the condition he was in. He came to you. You were his nemesis. He taunted you. He knew what you were capable of. I bet he wanted you to pull that trigger. He wanted out of this world. He was just too much of a coward to do it himself. He probably wanted you to do it because he respected you."

Mulder stared deep into Daryl's eyes for another moment and then lay back on the floor, pondering all the thoughts Daryl had just put in his mind. Daryl lay down next to him and side-by-side they stared at the ceiling in silence for a long while.

Finally Mulder said, "Maybe he did respect me. I guess that's all any man ever really wants: to be respected by his father." Daryl whipped his head around to face Mulder, eyebrows raised. Mulder looked back at Daryl out of the corner of his eye and gave him a small sad smile. They both looked back toward the ceiling. Daryl reached over and took Mulder's hand in his and they slowly drifted off to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Scully swung the office door open and was greeted by an unexpected sight. Mulder and Daryl were curled up on a few couch cushions on the floor, fast asleep and practically spooning. Daryl was the little spoon. Her reaction went quickly from shock to amusement. If they still lived in a world of cameras and smartphones she would have taken a picture of this scene to use as blackmail against Mulder later.

"Ahem." Scully cleared her throat to wake them from their slumber. Startled, Daryl bolted straight up and reached for his crossbow. He quickly remembered where he was and who he was with. He calmed himself down and looked a little embarrassed. Scully wasn't sure if he was embarrassed about his sudden reaction or the position in which she had found him.

"The sun is up. We can head out now." Daryl nodded his acknowledgment and walked by her out of the room without saying a word.

Mulder sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What?" he asked as Scully smirked at him expectantly.

"I didn't say a word." She turned and left the office so he could collect himself.

Once the crew assembled in the hallway they discussed their exit plan. The six of them would make their way back upstairs to where they had left the supplies they collected the day before. Then they would push the wheeled cabinet through the corridors and find the utility door through which they had entered. The tricky part would be not knowing what was waiting for them on the other side of the door. There were no windows near that exit.

"What about the second floor?" Mulder asked as they stood at the top of the stairs near their stash of supplies. He looked to Scully. "Are there windows on that side of the building if we go up to the second floor?"

Scully searched her memory. "Yes, the offices up there have windows. We could take a look, see if that exit is still safe."

Michonne thought of a plan. "How about this? You two head up to the second floor and take a look. You can radio us to let us know if the coast is clear. If it is, you make your way back down while we get the supplies to the van. If it's not safe we'll meet back here and come up with something else."

Scully and Mulder agreed to the plan. Michonne handed a radio to Mulder and said, "Turn it off once you're outside. We need to save the battery to radio Rick when we get back in range of Alexandria."

Scully said, "got it," and turned to take the next flight of stairs upward. She ran squarely into Abraham's chest. He didn't budge.

"Not so fast, doc. I'm coming with you and I'll be leading the way. Now that I know what's in that pretty little head of yours I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Well then, after you." Scully gave Abraham an exaggerated bow and gestured for him to lead her up the stairs. He took the lead and was followed closely by Scully.

Mulder started after them but then hesitated. He turned back and faced Carl. "Would you take this?" Mulder handed him the bundle of evidence Scully had collected. "Just in case something happens to us, you should get this back to Alexandria."

Carl moved forward and accepted the stack of papers. "I'll take it, but you don't have to worry. Abraham is making your safety his personal mission. You'll be fine."

Mulder smiled at the young man and turned to follow the rest of his team up to the second floor.

Daryl led Carl, Michonne, and their supply cabinet through the hallways toward their exit. He held his crossbow at the ready. Michonne held her sword in one hand, ready to defend her group. There was no sign of movement in the halls. It seemed most of the walkers were trapped behind closed doors.

They reached the utility door without incident and waited to hear from the other trio. Carl pressed his ear to the door. "I don't hear anything out there." He was anxious to get out of the building. He was starting to feel trapped in there.

"Good, but we still need to wait for the signal." Michonne tried to temper his impatience.

Carl looked at the bundle of papers under his arm and then looked back to Michonne and Daryl. "What do you think of all this?" He had been so shocked by the information Scully had revealed the night before. It was too much to absorb all at once. It was only as he lay awake in the middle of the night that more questions started to form. "I mean, I'm glad we know how it all started, but now what do we do with all this information?"

"I was wondering the same thing." Daryl eyed the stack of papers. "There's got to be more to it than what they told us so far."

Michonne was patient and reasonable as always. "We're going to go through all of this with the whole community when we get home. If there's more to it we'll talk about it. We will figure out what to do with this knowledge."

Mulder's voice came over the radio. "Okay, it's not completely clear, but it's probably still our safest path."

Michonne held up her radio. "How many?"

"There are four almost immediately outside the door. Then two more closer to the van."

"We'll take care of them. Make your way back down. We'll try to be loaded up before you get here." Michonne turned to Daryl. "Let's clear the field first, then deal with the supplies."

Carl volunteered, "I can probably hit the ones by the van from the doorway." Michonne nodded and put her hand on the door handle. They all readied their weapons.

She flung the door open and the four walkers roaming outside stopped in their tracks and turned to approach their prey. Michonne and Daryl made short work of them. Michonne took out two with a blade to the head. Daryl's crossbow bolts sailed into the skulls of two more. As Daryl collected his arrows, Carl took aim at the two corpses near the van. He had one clean shot and he took it. The body in the distance fell to the ground and became lifeless. He took aim at the second walker, but it was behind the van. He waited for it to make its way around into the open again. As he stood, looking down the sight of his gun with his good eye, he heard a sound to his right. It was soft, but he heard it. Something was limping toward him on his blind side. Instincts kicked in and he grabbed his machete from his belt. He turned and swung the blade hard, pinning the approaching walker's head against the wall. He hadn't broken through its skull. It's arms still reached for him. He held the machete pressed against its head to keep it at bay. With his other hand he raised his gun and fired a shot right between its eyes. It's arms fell limp. He glanced again toward the van and saw he had a clean shot on the remaining monster. He aimed and pulled the trigger and the last visible threat dropped to the ground.

Carl felt a renewed sense of confidence. Just as Michonne had predicted, his other senses and instincts were starting to compensate for his missing eye. He replaced his machete and holstered his gun. He turned to Michonne and Daryl and, with a tip of his father's sheriff hat, he said "Let's get the supplies." He headed back toward the door. Michonne and Daryl glanced at one another with an amused look. It was good to see him get his confidence back, but sometimes it was difficult not to think of him as a little kid playing cops and robbers. They followed after him and helped with the supplies.

They finished loading everything into the back of the van and waited for the rest of their team to join them. Carl leaned idly against the side of the vehicle, but then something caught his attention. There was a tree planted in the sidewalk nearby. He noticed there were letters carved into its bark: J-S-S. It looked fresh. "Look!" he exclaimed, drawing the attention of the other two. "This is new! It wasn't here yesterday. She was here last night!"

Daryl examined the bark. Michonne's voice took on a skeptical tone. "Who was here last night?"

"Enid! She was here. She did this." His mind flashed back to the first time Enid had left Alexandria. She had left him without a goodbye. The only trace of her was a note that said, "Just survive somehow." He still had the note in his pocket at this moment. He took it with him everywhere he went. He saw the doubt in Michonne and Daryl's expressions. He produced the note and showed it to the pair. "She recognized the van. Or she saw us or something. I don't know. But she was here! She left this for us, so we could find her."

Daryl wasn't so sure. "Maybe it was her, but we don't know if that means she wants to be found. It could be a warning." He handed the note back to Carl. "Maybe she knows something we don't."

Michonne scanned the perimeter for threats. She saw none.

Carl was getting frantic. "Daryl, you can track her can't you? Come on you've got to at least try. She can't be too far away." This was the first sign he'd seen of Enid in months. He couldn't let her get away. He needed to know she was safe.

"Carl," Daryl shook his head. "We don't know for sure it was her. We barely have enough gas to get back. Besides, she knows how to take care of herself. If she wanted to be found, she knows where to find us." Carl looked defeated.

Michonne put an arm around his shoulder. "Hey, you wanted to know she was okay. This looks like she's alive and well. Daryl's right, she knows her way home if that's what she wants." Carl knew they were right, but he still searched his mind for any available argument. His train of thought was interrupted as Scully, Mulder, and Abraham burst forth from the building.

Abraham slammed the door shut quickly and leaned against it to keep it closed. Mulder was clamoring to get back in and Scully was yelling about something. The three standing near the van rushed over to find out what all the commotion was about.

"You can't just leave him like that!" Scully screamed with her finger pointed in Abraham's face.

"Fine, you get to the van and I'll take care of it," Abraham countered.

"No!" Mulder shouted. "I have to do it. It has to be me."

"Like hell! Abraham had no intention of moving.

"What's going on?" Daryl asked.

Abraham explained. "We were almost out of there when some walker went wandering down the hallway. It didn't even see us but this clown right here went chasing after it." He indicated Mulder. "I had to drag them out of there."

Mulder looked into Daryl's eyes, begging for help. "It was Skinner. The man from the photograph. He never even made it out of the building." The guilt was back in Mulder's expression. "I can't leave him like this. And I have to be the one to finish him."

Daryl understood the need to put your loved ones out of their misery. The last image of his brother, Merle, flashed through his mind. "Yes," he agreed, "You have to be the one. And I'm going to help you."

Abraham stepped aside and let Daryl open the door. He and Mulder stepped into the dark hallway. "Which way?" Daryl asked, crossbow raised.

"To the right," Mulder replied with his knife clenched tightly in his hand. As they reached the t-junction of two hallways Daryl quickly scanned to the left for any signs of danger and then proceeded to the right. Up ahead, the corridor opened up into a wider hallway. As they approached Daryl saw a figure pass slowly in front of their hallway. He moved forward stealthily and approached the figure from behind. Daryl wrapped his arms around the man in a sort of bear hug to keep him from attacking. He turned him to face Mulder.

"Is this him?" He didn't need Mulder to reply. The answer was written all over his face. He was fraught with grief and anguish. This man had meant something to Mulder and now he had to end this suffering.

Mulder approached the body of FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner, searching his dead eyes for some sign of the man he used to be. He had been Mulder's boss, his friend, sometimes almost like a father figure. Now here he stood, no longer human, looking at Mulder not as a colleague or a friend, but as a meal.

"Mulder," Daryl whispered. He wanted to give Mulder this moment of closure, but time was of the essence. "If you can't do it, I will."

Mulder shook his head with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He reached around Skinner's shoulders, almost as if to embrace him. Then he plunged his knife into the base of his skull, releasing him from his prison.

Daryl gently lay the man's body on the floor. "Do you want to bring him with us?"

"No. This place was home to him. It's as good a place as any for him to stay." There was a small amount of peace in Mulder's eyes. "But I'd like something to remember him by. I wish he still had his glasses." Mulder searched the pockets of the man he had known and respected for his entire career. He found his FBI badge. He opened it and examined the picture, running his thumb over the name printed there. "This will do." Then, locking eyes with Daryl he added, "thank you."

Daryl stood and extended his hand to help Mulder up. Together they walked through the hallway back to the exit. As they walked out the door Scully approached Mulder and put both hands on his shoulders, her eyes asking the question her lips couldn't. Mulder held up the badge for her to see. A tear streamed down her face and she took a deep breath. She was glad that it was over, but sorry that it had come to this.

They got in the van and headed back toward Alexandria, exhausted and covered in death. Carl still wasn't ready to leave. He wanted to stay and track down Enid. After much debating Michonne finally said, "I'll make you a deal. We'll try to radio your dad. If he thinks it's a good idea, we'll see if we can track her down. Deal?"

"The radio won't even work from this far out." Carl was pretty sure he already knew what Rick's answer would be.

"Well, let's just try and see." She clicked her radio on and said, "Is anyone there? We're headed back, but we need to talk to Rick."

There was a moment of silence followed by a lot of static. Then a broken up female voice came over the radio. They could only make out a few panicked words. "Thank god… Maggie… labor… hurry!"

Carl placed his hand on the medical supplies they had acquired the day before. There was no need to ask Rick anything. It was settled. They needed to get back to Alexandria as soon as possible. "Let's go home."

Abraham pushed the van pretty much to its limit in order to get them back as quickly as he could. As they cruised back toward the Potomac they were unaware of the eyes trained on them through a pair of binoculars. A man crouched on the roof of an old, abandoned factory watched the van as it made its exit from the city. He followed the vehicle until it disappeared in the distance. The man stood and walked casually to the door that led back into the building. As he flung it open he hollered down the stairs, "Hey, boss! We've got some fresh meat!"


	14. Chapter 14

Abraham wailed on the horn of the van as they approached the walls of Alexandria. The wall rolled back and Spencer, Deanna's son and last living relative, opened the gate. The van skidded to a stop just inside the compound. Spencer closed the gate and approached the van just as the six people inside began to spill out of it. Carol ran forward to greet the returning party. Scully stumbled out carrying the vital medical supplies they had retrieved on their journey.

"Where is she?" Scully blurted out.

"She's in the infirmary," Carol replied. "Let's go." The two of them ran off toward Maggie.

Spencer approached Daryl and waited for Mulder to wander off toward his assigned home with his large bundle of papers. He asked Daryl, "So what's the story?" Most likely everyone in Alexandria was anxiously waiting to hear what the group had learned on their mission.

Daryl stared after Mulder. "We found what we were looking for. We'll talk about it tonight with Rick and everyone else."

"What about them?" Spencer indicated the directions Mulder and Scully had taken.

Daryl paused, reflecting on the journey, then said, "They're with us now."

Scully rushed into the infirmary with Carol close behind. Denise turned as the door opened and exclaimed, "Thank god you're back!" Carol took the medical supplies Scully had acquired and arranged them near Maggie's bed while Scully quickly washed her hands.

"How is she?" Scully asked of Denise. And then to Maggie directly, "How are you?" The mother-to-be looked fatigued and tense, but otherwise okay. Scully was relieved to see her give a small smile.

"You made it back. I wasn't sure you'd get here in time." Maggie was almost delirious, but very grateful to see Scully. Glenn stood next to her bed, gripping her hand in his.

Scully turned to Denise. "Can you run me through how her labor is progressing?"

Denise was still in a mild state of panic and feeling overwhelmed by the situation. She had been doing her best not to let Maggie see her unease. However, now that Scully had arrived she was finding it harder to keep it together. "She went into labor in the middle of the night. We brought her here. I hope that was the right thing to do. Was it okay that we moved her? Should we have left her in her bed? I know you said she should be on bed rest, but I thought maybe she should be here in case she needed medical supplies." The words came pouring out of Denise's mouth faster than Scully could comprehend them.

Scully put her hands on Denise's shoulders trying to calm her down. "First, take a deep breath." Denise closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Second, has her water broken?"

"Yes, last night. That was when I decided she should come here."

Scully smiled at Denise. "That was a very good decision. I would have suggested the same. Okay, third, what about contractions?" No sooner had Scully said the word than Maggie seized up with a contraction. Scully rushed to her side and held her hand. "Breathe, Maggie, breathe. Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to." Scully winced slightly under Maggie's firm grip. She looked around for a clock with a second hand but didn't see one. She began counting the seconds in her head to time how long the contraction was lasting. _One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand._ After almost a full minute Maggie released her hand and sat back in exhaustion.

"Do you know how far dilated she is?" Scully asked Denise as she grabbed a blood pressure cuff and moved in to check Maggie's vitals.

"Last time I checked she was about four centimeters, but that was a couple hours ago." Denise's expression was filled with self-doubt. Scully tried to give her a reassuring smile, but her mind was starting to flood with images of her own pregnancy and the birth of her son. As she checked Maggie's dilation she tried to push the memories back to the corners of her mind. She tried not to picture her own baby, his perfect face, that newborn smell.

"You're about eight centimeters. It won't be long now." Scully gave her a gentle pat on the knee. The anguish she was trying to hide must have shown on her face because Maggie's eyes went wide in fear.

Glenn saw it too. "Is there something wrong? Is something wrong with the baby?"

Scully tried to paste a smile on her face. "Nothing's wrong. Everything is progressing normally. Try not to worry."

"Scully," Maggie begged, "Dana, please, if something's wrong just tell us. We need to know."

Scully realized she was causing needless anxiety for this couple who were already in a very stressful situation. Keeping her feelings to herself wasn't worth the worry she was causing. She decided to be honest with this small group of people.

"Your baby is doing fine. I'm just remembering my own baby." She paused, unsure of just how much to share. "We gave him up for adoption. It wasn't what I wanted, but it felt like the only way to keep him safe at the time."

"When you say 'we' do you mean Mulder?" Maggie hadn't met Mulder yet and she wasn't clear on what the relationship was between him and Scully.

Scully nodded. "Our baby was at risk because of the type of work we did. Because of the information we had obtained. Because of things we'd been through together." She let out a long sigh. "So we gave him up. And not a day goes by that I don't think about him. I'll never get to know what happened to him." She felt a little better having said it out loud.

Maggie gave her the faintest of smiles and squeezed her hand. "Sometimes it's better to not know what happened to the people you've loved. As long as you don't know, you can make his story whatever you want it to be. As long as you don't know there's still hope."

Carol gave a small sniffle from where she stood nearby. She recalled the brief period when she didn't know what had happened to her own daughter. Those few days had been filled with desperation and terror. Even so, the moment she saw that her daughter had become one of the undead creatures that now plagued the planet, she wished she could go back to the days before when she didn't yet know. She wished she didn't have to picture her daughter's last minutes and all the horrors she must have seen. Carol wiped her eyes and put on her strong face for Maggie, a woman for whom she had so much respect and affection.

Glenn gave Maggie's shoulder a gentle squeeze, remembering all the loved ones his wife had lost. He truly appreciated how brave she had become because of all the lost she had experienced. Maggie let out a groan as another contraction rippled through her. This time Scully asked Maggie to count the seconds with her. Together they chanted, "one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand…"

When the contraction finally passed Maggie said, "Thank you for sharing that with me." After a slight hesitation she asked, "Can I share something with you?"

"Anything," Scully replied, with a closeness she truly felt.

"I'm terrified." Glenn stroked her hair, wishing he could wipe the fear right out of her.

"It's natural to be nervous about childbirth." Scully tried to reassure her.

Maggie shook her head. "This is more than nerves. I've been petrified ever since I found out I was pregnant. I'm afraid I'm not going to make it and I'm going to leave my baby in a world full of these abominations with no mother to look to for protection."

"Oh, Maggie," Scully's heart was broken for this young woman she barely knew. "You're healthy. You're doing great. You're not going to leave your baby."

"Did you meet Judith, Carl's baby sister?"

Scully remembered the young child Carl held in his arms the first time she met him. "Yes, I've seen her."

"She was born in a dark, filthy room in a prison with walkers roaming all around us. Her mother, Lori, she knew she wasn't going to make it. She was so brave. She told me how to cut the baby out of her. I sliced her open and pulled Judith out and then she died right in front of me, right in front of both her children. Carl had to finish her so she wouldn't turn. This is the reality we live in now. That's how a baby was brought into this world. That's how her mother left this world. It's all I can imagine when I think about my baby's birth." Maggie let silent tears roll down her cheeks while she hugged her bulging belly.

Scully had tears running down her face too. Every life left on this planet had a tragic story to tell. She contemplated the idea of bringing new life into this world. Was it worth it? Was it fair to the children? How would they survive in this new form of existence. She tried to shake it off for Maggie's sake. "Look around you. Look at all these people you've found. They love you. They will love your baby. Together you can protect this life." Scully placed her hands on Maggie's belly. "Everyone here is willing to put their life on the line to help protect you and your baby. You are not in that prison anymore. This place is clean and safe. It's the closest thing I've seen to a real hospital since the outbreak." Maggie looked around, taking it all in and trying to appreciate what Scully was telling her. "Hey," Scully said, encouraging Maggie to lock eyes with her. "You will pull through this. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Maggie let out a long breath. She truly believed Scully's words. This woman, this blessing, wasn't going to let anything happen to her. Glenn, who had been trying to dissuade Maggie of her fears for months, put his hand on top of Scully's and said, "Thank you."

At that moment Maggie felt another contraction coming on. She took several quick, deep breaths and yelled, "I need to push!"

"Alright, Maggie, let's do this. Give me a big deep breath and then a push."

As Maggie continued her labor, Scully silently directed everyone in the room to gather around her. Denise and Carol each took one of Maggie's hands. Glenn rubbed her shoulders and stroked her hair, whispering comforting words in her ear. The love between these two was evident, even to a newcomer like Scully. She prepared to catch the baby. After several more contractions and a lot more pushing, Maggie screamed her baby into the world.

Scully asked Denise to hand her the tools to cut the umbilical cord. She cradled the newborn child in her hands for a moment, smelling the baby, remembering her own child, remembering the life that had grown inside her. Then she handed the baby to Maggie and, with a slight crack in her voice she said, "It's a boy."

Maggie erupted in tears of relief and joy. Glenn held both his wife and the baby close. Scully looked at this happy family. You would never know from looking at this perfect picture that the world was a living nightmare, that monsters waited for them at every turn. You would never know the threats and the danger that awaited them outside of these walls. All Scully saw was a perfect happy family; the unbreakable love between parent and child. Nothing could take away this tiny part of humanity. Nothing.

As Maggie regained control of her emotions she asked Scully, "Can I ask you what you named your son?"

Scully's voice caught in her throat. For a brief moment, she was speechless. She swallowed the lump that had gathered within her and choked out her child's name, "William. We named him William."

Maggie gave Glenn a knowing look which he returned with a nod and a smile. Maggie looked back to Scully. "With your blessing, we'd like to name him William."

Scully gasped. She hadn't expected this. She wasn't sure if she wanted this. Then all at once it was all she wanted. She tried to blink back the tears that spilled forth. "If you're sure, then you absolutely have my blessing."

Maggie and Glenn gazed into each other's eyes with the same uncontrollable grin that all new parents share. Glenn leaned in and gave his newborn son a kiss on the forehead and said, "Welcome to the world William Hershel Rhee."


	15. Chapter 15

"Have you been up all night?" Scully asked Mulder as she walked back into the house they were meant to share. Scully had spent the night in the infirmary with Maggie and Glenn to make sure the baby was safe and healthy. Mulder looked as though he hadn't slept a wink. He had the documents they had retrieved from the X-files office spread all over the kitchen table and he was making notes all over them. He jumped when she approached. He hadn't heard her come in.

"Scully, what time is it?" He searched the room for a clock or some indication of the time of day. He had a manic look in his eyes. He hadn't slept. He likely hadn't moved from this spot for several hours.

Scully had seen Mulder like this many times before. He was on to something. He had a theory or a plan rattling around in his mind and he was trying to piece it together. Before the outbreak when Scully saw him get like this she would try to talk him down; ease him back into reality. But now it was almost a relief to see this side of him again. All the months that they were out there alone, barely surviving, he had become depressed. He had given up all hope in his theories and ideas. She couldn't stand seeing him so broken. It was a relief to see him get his spark back.

"What are you on to now?" Scully leaned in, trying to read his scribbled handwriting.

He turned to face her. "I was looking for a cure. I kept thinking there has to be a cure. All the tests that were performed, the plan they enacted. They never would have moved forward with any of this unless they had a cure for themselves, right?"

Scully was unsure if she wanted to encourage or discourage this line of thinking. She was happy to see Mulder pull himself out of his funk, but she didn't want to give him false hope either.

When she didn't respond, Mulder continued with his train of thought. "The only cure I can see is _arcB_. Anyone who had both _arcA_ and _arcB_ was safe when the genomes were triggered. But how many people in the world do you think had both genomes?" Again, Scully didn't reply. "It would have been only the people who were closest to the project. They handpicked the individuals who would survive. I can't tell exactly how many from all this evidence, but I can tell you one thing for sure: it's not a whole lot. We're talking about maybe a few dozen people, a hundred tops." This time Mulder stared Scully down until she felt compelled to reply.

"Okay, yes, I agree it's probably not very many people. It's not as if there's some stash of an _arcB_ vaccine sitting around somewhere. We can't cure anyone. We simply don't have the genome."

"We do, Scully. You know we do." The intensity in Mulder's eyes scared Scully a little bit.

"Okay, given that we had a sample of the genome, we don't have the ability to harvest it or administer it. We simply don't have the resources or the technology to do that anymore."

"Maybe not on a large scale, but I believe we could produce enough of the genome to cure the people within these walls." Mulder made a sweeping gesture with his arms to indicate the people in their newfound community. He knocked some of the papers off the table in the process. He didn't seem to notice.

"Alright, Mulder, I agree. Yes, we probably could get the _arcB_ genome into the people of this group. But that doesn't solve any of the larger problems. I'm still not sure where you're going with this."

"It's not about where I'm going, Scully. It's about where they were going."

"Where who was going, Mulder?"

"They! Them! The people running the experiments. The ones pulling the strings of all the puppets."

Scully was starting to think it was time to reel him back in. He wasn't making any sense. "I think you should get some sleep. We've both been up all night. We can go over this more after we rest."

"They had a plan. I know they did. I just have to figure out what it was. And I think I've almost got it."

They both turned as they heard a knock at the door. Mulder opened it and found Daryl standing on their front porch. Daryl immediately noticed the crazy look in his eyes.

"You okay, man?"

Mulder grinned so big Scully was worried Daryl would think he was some sort of psychopath. "I'm fantastic! How are you doing?"

"I'm good, I guess." Daryl wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change in Mulder, so he decided to ignore it. "Rick asked everyone to come to the church this afternoon. He wants you to tell everyone what you told us about the outbreak." He gave Scully a evaluative look. She looked unchanged. "Will you be ready?" He had fully accepted Mulder and Scully as part of their group, but he wanted them to be accepted by everyone. He was hoping their little show and tell would bring on that acceptance. But with Mulder seeming a little off, he wasn't sure if it would help or hurt.

"We'll be ready," Scully reassured him. "We both just need a little rest before then."

Daryl nodded and left so they could get some sleep. Mulder was reluctant, but ultimately allowed Scully to lead him up the stairs. He fell asleep within seconds of laying on the bed. Scully proceeded to her own room, wondering what had triggered this sudden change. Could it have been brought on by being back in his old work environment? Maybe it had to do with finally feeling safe for a little while. Perhaps he was just happier than he had been in a long while. She decided to let the question drop for a while so that she could get some sleep as well.

Later that afternoon Rick paced the floors of the church, looking agitated. Daryl sat in one of the front pews. "So you saw the evidence with your own eyes?" Daryl nodded. "But you don't want to tell me what caused the outbreak?"

"I think it will make more sense if you hear it from them. Scully knows all the science of what happened." Daryl knew if he tried to explain about aliens and government experiments he wouldn't do the story justice. "Besides, you've got to see the evidence for yourself."

"But you believe them?" Rick stopped pacing. He wanted badly to know what caused the outbreak, but he didn't want to be fed some story. He wanted the truth. He felt that his people deserved the truth.

Daryl leveled his gaze at Rick. "Yes, I believe them."

The rest of the Alexandrians began to file in. Mulder and Scully arrived last along with Glenn, Maggie, and the baby. Scully had wanted Maggie to stay put in the infirmary, but Maggie had insisted. Scully, in turn, insisted on accompanying her on the walk to the church. For most of the people of Alexandria, this was their first opportunity to see Maggie's child. For a moment it seemed as though everyone forgot the reason they were here. Everyone was preoccupied with the baby, which gave Mulder and Scully a moment to collect their thoughts.

"Why don't you let me do most of the talking?" Scully asked.

"Of course." Mulder threw up his hands in submission. "After all, you're the expert." He had a mischievous grin that made Scully nervous. But still, it was just so good to see him happy again.

Once the group had settled down and recalled the purpose of their gathering, everyone took a seat and waited.

Rick started off the discussion. "Most of you haven't formally met our new arrivals. This is Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They used to work for the FBI." He looked to Daryl for reassurance. Daryl gave him a small nod of his head. "They know what caused the outbreak. We asked you all here today so that we can hear how all of this got started."

Rick gave the floor to Scully. She took a deep breath and then launched into the same spiel she had given to the smaller group the night they retrieved their evidence. She told them about the alien landing, about the DNA, the experiments. She told them about the alien genome they all possessed and about how _arcA_ was triggered by the release of aluminum phosphide gas into the atmosphere. She showed them the evidence they had retrieved, the photos, the experiment documentation, the correspondences between top government officials. Mulder remained silent throughout her explanation. When she had finished she scanned the eyes of her audience. She looked for some sign of acceptance.

The first sign of acceptance came in the form of a question from Rick. "So we all have this alien DNA inside of us. What do we do about it? Can it be removed?"

"No," Scully replied. "It cannot be removed. Once it has bonded with your DNA it's permanent."

"So there's no cure?" An unfamiliar man near the back of the room stood to ask his question.

Scully looked into his hopeful eyes. He was desperate for the answer he prayed she could give him. She sighed and opened her mouth to tell him there is no cure when Mulder interrupted. "There is a cure."

"Mulder," Scully warned. She didn't want him giving these people false hope. She worried it would undermine the trust they had been working to build here.

"It's true, Scully. Tell them about _arcB_."

"I really don't think you should call that a cure." It was too late. Mulder had piqued the interest of everyone in the room. She would have to explain it to them now. Still she hesitated.

Rick encouraged her to continue. "Please, tell us about _arcB_ "

Scully glanced between Rick and Mulder and then continued. "As I've told you, everyone here already has _arcA_ in their DNA. It was originally part of a paired genome with _arcB_. If you had both _arcA_ and _arcB_ you would be immune to the aluminum phosphide trigger. It would mean that your immune system would function as normal. If you were to die, you wouldn't turn. You wouldn't become one of the walkers."

The unfamiliar man standing at the back of the room raised his hand as if he were a student in school. Rick called on him, "Go ahead Morgan."

Morgan's stare bored deep into Scully's eyes. "How do we get _arcB_?"

Mulder didn't give Scully a chance to answer. "We have it. It's inside us."

"What do you mean it's inside us?" Morgan asked. He wanted badly to believe there was a way out of all this. He wanted a magic cure that could fix the world they lived in. Most of all, he didn't want to have to kill anyone anymore. If there was a cure, then maybe they could end all this madness.

"Scully and I," Mulder replied. "We have both genomes. Scully was injected with it when she was abducted. She injected me with it when I almost died during the outbreak. She saved my life." Mulder and Scully looked to one another, remembering that fateful night. "And she could save you too."

Scully shook her head. He was giving these people false hope. "It's true, both Mulder and I have _arcB_ as part of our DNA sequence. With the right equipment and given enough time, we could harvest it and we could likely make enough of the genome to give it to everyone here." She sucked in a deep breath before she went on. "I don't want to give you the wrong idea. This could prevent you from dying from things like the flu and simple infections. It wouldn't make you invincible; it would just return your immune system to normal. There is nothing that can be done about the lives already lost. We will still live in a world filled with undead abominations. A bite from one of them would still kill you. It just wouldn't turn you into one of them."

She surveyed the room again, trying to read the reaction. People looked hopeful, which was exactly the reaction she worried about.

Morgan spoke up again. "So what you're saying is there's still no solution. There's no way of righting the world. There's no escape from this nightmare."

Scully nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Mulder chimed in one more time. "I disagree." All eyes were on him. Scully eyes were wide with confusion and suspicion. He had a smug expression on his face. Whatever theory he had been obsessing over that morning had finally clicked in his head. He truly believed he had an answer. "I think there might be an escape. I'd like to talk it over with Rick and Daryl first, but I believe I have a plan."


	16. Chapter 16

"Mulder, this is insanity! You can't be serious about this!" Scully was on her feet, pacing around Deanna's office. Daryl leaned against a wall near the window with his arms crossed over his chest. Rick sat in Deanna's chair with a stern look on his face. Mulder was seated across from Rick still looking smug and slightly manic.

"I'm completely serious, Scully." Given his calm demeanor, one would think Mulder was the one being rational. "I think this is our only option."

"Mulder, you literally thought of this idea an hour ago. Now you're convinced it's our only option?" Scully was exasperated. She had to talk some sense into him.

Much to her surprise, Rick wasn't too quick to write Mulder off as a nut job. "Why don't you walk us through this plan of yours again. I want to make sure I understand what you're suggesting."

"It's pretty simple," Mulder replied. "We leave."

"Leave?" Rick repeated, encouraging him to elaborate.

"Yes, we leave. It's just like Scully said. There's no fixing this mess. Humans spent centuries trying to destroy this planet and they've finally done it. There's no hope for us here."

"And you're proposing we leave," Rick prompted, "the planet."

"Yes. It's all very simple really." Mulder acted as though he was explaining arithmetic, rather than suggesting leaving earth.

"Man, I think you may have already left," Daryl said from his place near the window. He had wanted so badly for Mulder and Scully to be accepted here. Mulder wasn't helping that cause right now and it was making Daryl aggravated.

"Let's hear him out." Rick sat back and waited for Mulder to continue.

"This is our ride out of here." Mulder held up a schematic diagram of an Alien Replica Vehicle. "I've seen one of these things before with my own eyes, touched it, watched it disappear. This is our ticket to a new home."

"Explain to me again how this thing came to exist." Rick wanted a way out of this mess as much as anyone. He was trying very hard to believe what Mulder had to say no matter how farfetched it sounded.

"When the alien ship crash-landed in Roswell, the government seized all of it. We've told you all about the tests and what they did with the alien DNA from the being that was aboard the spacecraft. They also salvaged the ship. They studied the technology. They reverse engineered it and they built their own. But they didn't stop there. They made several of their own. The ARVs were strategically placed throughout the country." Mulder had spotted a map of the United States on the wall next to a bookshelf. He grabbed a box of push pins off of what was once Deanna's desk and asked Rick, "May I?"

Rick nodded. "Be my guest."

Mulder approached the map and put ten white push pins into major cities around the country; New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Jacksonville, San Francisco, Phoenix, Austin, Atlanta, Denver, and Minneapolis. He turned to face Rick. "These were the locations where the aluminum phosphide gas was released. These were just the US locations. There was a release in every major city around the world. The idea was to hit the most populated areas first and then let it disburse throughout the entire atmosphere. You'll notice they're more or less evenly disbursed to yield maximum coverage." He then proceeded to put five red push pins into remote rural locations around the country. He named them off as he placed the pins. "Kettlersville, Ohio. Maljamar, New Mexico. Moran, Wyoming. Roxobel, North Carolina. Patterson, Iowa. These are the holding facilities for the ARVs. They're also fairly evenly disbursed. Notice how far away they are from all the white pins. This was by design. The government planned to pull the trigger with the aluminum phosphide gas and then evacuate themselves. This was their exit strategy; to leave planet earth."

"But if that's true, then all these ships would have already left." Rick was still trying to find something rational he could latch onto in this plan.

Scully added onto Rick's comment. "And we know for a fact that at least one of these ships has been destroyed."

"That's right." Mulder wielded a pen and put an 'X' next to the red pushpin in Maljamar, New Mexico. "But these other four, I have every reason to believe they're still there."

"Why?" Daryl wanted to know. "If this was their master plan, why didn't they evacuate like they intended?"

"Because they weren't ready. They thought they would be the ones to pull the trigger, to release the gas that would set everything in motion. But as I told you a couple nights ago, they weren't the ones to push the button."

"Okay, okay." Rick rubbed his temples against the headache that was forming there. "Let's just say that this was the government's plan all along. Let's assume the ships are still there. Where were they going to go? What was the destination?"

Mulder gave Rick a look as if it should be plainly obvious. "Back to where the technology came from in the first place. They were going to colonize the planet from whence the Roswell spacecraft came. Scully," he said pleadingly to his long-time partner. "How many times have I been right about this kind of thing?"

Scully tapped her foot impatiently. Reluctantly she said, "You're almost always right about this kind of thing."

"So don't you think we should at least consider it?"

She took a deep breath and tried to open her mind to his plan. "Alright, I agree that it seems this most likely was the government's plan. I think that if everything had fallen into place, it probably could have worked for them. But I'm having a hard time seeing how it could work for us. We don't know for sure the ships are still there. We don't know how to operate them. We don't know if we'd have the resources to power them. We wouldn't know how to navigate to this planet you have in mind. And even if everything worked out and we managed to find our way to this destination, we don't know that we would be welcomed."

Mulder began ticking off his counter arguments to her points. "First of all, I believe all four ARVs are still there. But even if they're not all present and in working order, we only need one. Second we do know how to operate them, or at least we have the documentation that can teach us how." He pointed to the large stack of papers he had been carting around with him all day. "Third, if the ship is there, the resources to power it will be there as well. It was designed to be a self-contained system."

Daryl asked, "What about navigation. It ain't exactly like we can stop and ask for directions."

"I have full faith that we will be able to find our way to this planet. It's exactly what the ship was designed to do. It will get us there." Mulder was oozing confidence and it was becoming infectious to Scully and Rick, if not to Daryl.

Daryl questioned Mulder further. "And what if we get there and find out that this planet can't sustain human life."

Mulder locked eyes with him. "This planet isn't exactly sustaining human life anymore." Daryl looked away from Mulder's stare, annoyed. He couldn't argue that point.

Scully interjected. "That part I believe we can be sure of. There was an attempt to colonize this planet before. They reasoned that it made sense that the atmosphere there would be conducive to human life because our atmosphere was compatible with the alien life that landed here. The people who embarked on that mission didn't return, but it wasn't because of the atmosphere. It was because they were met with hostility."

"Hostility?" Rick questioned. "What kind of hostility?"

"They didn't consider us friendly and weren't too happy about our unexpected visit." Mulder answered.

Daryl chimed in again. "So what makes you think that wouldn't happen to us?"

Mulder had an answer for everything. "I believe they know something catastrophic has happened here and they will consider us refugees. I believe we will be accepted."

"How could they possibly know that?" Rick wanted to know.

"Think about what this event must have looked like from outer space." Mulder was becoming animated with his excitement over this plan. "We spent all of human history trying to light up earth like a beacon. That's how this alien race found us in the first place. Then one day all the lights and noise just vanished. I'm positive they noticed the sudden void."

"So we just leave? That's it? Never return?" Rick was depressed by the thought. He wanted so badly to have a plan, to have a future. But he had always thought that would mean rebuilding something here. He had never imagined something like this.

"This is the only way out." Mulder was adamant. "This world is done. Even if you could eliminate all these walkers, the real monsters are the people left behind. The human threat will never go away. It will find you no matter where you go. Unless we leave. This is our chance to start again, to live in safety, to give the children a chance at a real life."

That comment hit home with Rick. Judith had never known anything but this world of chaos and danger. She deserved better than this. She deserved a normal life. Before he had a chance to respond, Morgan burst into the room. "Rick," he said urgently. "We need you at the gate."

With no hesitation Rick jumped up and left with Morgan. Daryl and Mulder were locked in some kind of staring contest. Scully took the opportunity to take her leave. "If there's nothing more to discuss right now, I'd like to go check on Maggie and the baby." Neither of the two men moved, so she made her way out of the uncomfortable silence.

Once they were alone Daryl asked, "So why are you so eager to leave Earth?" The question was aggressive. Daryl was frustrated. He thought he knew Mulder. He had respect for him. He wanted this man to become a part of his community. Now he was acting like a different person. He sounded like a crackpot. The question Daryl really wanted to ask was what had changed.

Mulder didn't rise to the bait. He wasn't going to let Daryl rile him up. Calmly, he replied, "I've always felt like I didn't belong here. Ever since my sister was abducted I've been interested in alien life. Scully would call it an obsession."

"Your sister?" Daryl asked. He saw more of the Mulder he thought he knew behind those blue eyes. Maybe he was still in there. "I thought Scully said all the alien abductions were actually government abductions."

"She said that most of them were. My sister was a trade. The government wanted an alien fetus. But they had to give up something in return. I've been searching for her ever since."

"I'm sorry." Daryl suddenly felt bad for bringing it up.

Mulder shook off his apology. "You didn't know. Besides, I've always felt like something has been pulling me toward other galaxies. Deep down I always believed I was meant to leave this planet someday."

"What about the rest of us? I've never felt like I was meant to leave. I don't think any of us ever considered ourselves astronauts."

Mulder shrugged dismissively. Daryl's aggravation was starting to rise again. "Have you stopped to realize how many 'ifs' are in your plan? _If_ the space ship still exists. _If_ we can find the planet. _If_ there's even air for us to breathe up there. Is this all just some game to you?"

Mulder finally lost his cool. He jumped up and got in Daryl's face. "No, it's not a game! I'm trying to do what I should have done a long time ago! I'm trying to save us!"

"No, you're trying to be the hero. But you're going to get us all killed!"

"Staying here, that's what's going to get us all killed. You're just scared to take a chance!"

Daryl leaned in closer so that he and Mulder were nose to nose. His voice was so low it sounded like a growl. "I'm not scared of anything."

Mulder didn't back down. He searched Daryl's eyes, looking for a trace of fear. Before he could even think about what he was doing he clapped both hands around either side of Daryl's face and kissed him hard on the mouth, pressing his fury into the lips of this man who challenged him so.

Daryl was in such a state of shock that he didn't do anything for a moment. He stood, frozen, allowing Mulder to kiss him. Then he violently shoved him away.

"Man, what the hell are you doing?"

Mulder's smug expression had returned. With a taunting edge to his voice he said, "You're scared of something."

The smirk on Mulder's lips was too much for Daryl. He was furious. Who did Mulder think he was to issue this sort of challenge? Who was he to accuse Daryl of being afraid. Rising to the challenge, angry and determined, he lunged forward. For a second Mulder thought Daryl was going to take a swing at him. Mulder fully intended to take the punch. He probably deserved it. Then suddenly Daryl wrapped one arm hard around the back of Mulder's head. The other hand clamped tightly around his jaw. Daryl kissed him, forcefully, but with furious passion. Mulder didn't think he could get out of this hold if he wanted to. But he was fairly certain he didn't want to.

As suddenly as he had caught Mulder in this embrace, Daryl released him. They stood, eye to eye, breathing hard. Daryl was seething. He repeated, "I'm not scared of anything." He turned and stormed out of the office, thinking to himself, _What the hell just happened?_

Mulder leaned back against the desk, stunned as Daryl stalked away from him. He thought to himself, _Maybe he's not as scared as I thought._


	17. Chapter 17

Rick and Morgan skidded to a stop just inside Alexandria's gate. On the short run from Deanna's house Rick had asked what was going on. Morgan had answered with words that sent cold sweat running down Rick's neck. "We've got company."

At least half of Alexandria's residents were silently assembled inside the gate, which was still closed. They had their weapons ready. Rick craned his neck upward and saw Spencer standing in the nearest guard tower. He looked pale and queasy. Whatever was on the other side of the wall had him terrified.

While Rick climbed the tower to join Spencer, he motioned for everyone below to keep quiet. If the company Morgan had alluded to consisted of walkers, he didn't want to rile them up with unnecessary noise. If there were living people out there, he didn't want to show his hand. As he reached the top of the tower he was praying for walkers. Mulder's words were ringing in his ears. It was true. No matter where you went you could never escape the human threat in this world.

Rick glanced over the wall and his heart sank. He knew it had been too much to hope for. What he saw was a team of eight men and two trucks. The drivers of the two vehicles still sat in their seats, although their engines were off. The other six men were standing in front of the trucks patiently waiting to talk to Rick. He quickly assessed his opposition. They all had guns. He could see knives on the belts of at least two of them. No other weapons were visible in the trucks, but who knew what they had hidden. These visitors were well armed, but outnumbered. Rick swallowed the lump in his throat and reminded himself of the army waiting on his side of the wall. They were armed. They were capable.

He continued to stare the men down, unwilling to break the silence. They had come to his door. They would have to announce themselves.

Finally one of the men standing at the gate asked, "You in charge here?"

Rick took a small measure of comfort in the fact that they didn't know who he was. Maybe they had just stumbled across the compound. They hadn't been observing his community. Still unwilling to give up any information, he gave the vaguest answer he could think of. "Whatever you have to say, you can say to me."

The man at the gate worked up a wad of saliva in his mouth and made a big show of spitting it right at the base of the gate. Then he continued, "See, I want to know who's in charge because we have a proposition for you." His face broke into a wicked smile. He was too calm, too casual. He clearly believed he had the upper hand here.

Rick did not return the grin. "What kind of proposition?"

"Let's call it a mutual agreement." The man casually rested his hand on the grip of his gun in its holster. In a flash Rick raised his revolver and Spencer trained his rifle on the man. Out of the corner of his eye, Rick saw his army on the ground below ready their weapons as well.

"Whoa now." The man put his hands in the air as the men behind him also raised their guns. "Let's just take it easy here. The way I see it we're all gonna be real good friends here soon. So let's just relax." No one lowered their weapons.

Rick asked him, "How do you figure us for friends?"

"It's like I said; we've got a deal to propose."

"Then let's hear it already." Rick wanted to know what this group's angle was. He was tempted to just take them out right now. But he had to be smart about it. He had to find out where they came from, how many of them were still out there, what kind of a threat they posed.

The man grinned again. "We would like to trade with you."

"Trade what?"

The man scanned the wall in front of him, left and right. "Looks like you folks are pretty cozy here. You've got weapons, I see. Probably have food, medical supplies. We'd like to trade. We get half of everything you have now and half of everything you acquire in the future."

Rick finally cracked a small smile. Surely this guy must be joking. There was no way he was going to hand over anything to these thugs. He humored the man. "Half? Is that all? And what are you offering in return?"

The man at the gate ignored Rick's mocking tone. "In return you get our protection."

Rick actually let out a small laugh at that. He had full confidence in his team's ability to defend themselves. Of all the things he would be willing to trade for, protection was last on the list. "Protection from what exactly?"

The man glanced over his shoulder and surveyed his own men. "Oh, anything you might need protecting from."

Rick didn't miss the barely veiled threat. His finger itched to pull the trigger, to end this now. But he needed to think of the bigger picture. He needed more information from this guy. "And these are the people who would do the protecting?"

The man shook his head, understanding exactly what Rick was trying to get at. "We've got a lot more people." He paused, then said, "More people for your protection." The inflection he put on the last word made it clear that protection wasn't what they had in mind.

"And if we refuse?" Rick wanted him to just come out and say it. They were the organized crime of the new world. They wanted Rick to pay up or this group of people would try to take down Alexandria. They would try, Rick thought. Let them try. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to be calm.

The man replied, "If you refuse, then I'll have to let my boss know."

"So you're not in charge." It was an accusation, not a question.

The man chuckled to himself. "No, sir. If I were in charge you'd already be dead." Rick was seconds away from ending this man when he said in an overly friendly tone, "Tell you what, I'll go back and tell my boss you're thinking it over. We'll be back tomorrow for your final answer."

The group started filing back into the trucks when Rick asked, "Your boss, what's his name?"

The man turned back toward Rick and replied, "His name is Negan. I expect you'll come to know him very well." Down below, Sasha and Abraham stole a glance at one another. That name meant something to them. Something bad. With that same villainous smile he turned and got in the front seat of one of the vehicles. They backed down the road a ways and turned to go back to wherever they had come from.

Rick stood in the guard tower with Spencer until they were well out of sight. Then he climbed down to address the rest of his town. As the crowd gathered around him he tried to clear his mind, searching for a plan. "I need someone in every guard tower. We need to make sure they aren't planning some kind of ambush." Several people broke off from the crowd to follow his directive.

Morgan was by his side. "I'm surprised you didn't kill him." There was respect in his expression. Morgan didn't agree with killing anymore. He believed that all life should be considered precious. Rick held a deep-seated respect for Morgan, but disagreed with him on that point. Killing meant survival. It was a way of life now.

"I don't think killing them would solve the problem." Rick saw the hopeful look in Morgan's eyes and added, "Not yet." There was no doubt in his mind, this group would have to die, all of them. But first Rick needed a plan.

Sasha and Abraham approached. "Rick," Sasha began. "We've seen this group before. Remember the guys we came across after that mission to get rid of the herd from the quarry? They were working for Negan."

"They're bad dudes, Rick." Abraham spoke up. "You may recall we took out that whole group with extreme prejudice. I'd imagine if they put together that it was us they won't be too keen to trade anymore."

Rick let out a sharp breath. They had to find a way to take out this team. "We're going to have a war."

Morgan shook his head. "Rick, no. It doesn't have to be like that. We can find another way."

Rick wanted to be able to calmly talk some sense into Morgan, but he was too anguished to be patient at the moment. He lost his temper just a little. "What do you suggest, Morgan? Should we lock them up in your little prison cell and try to turn them into good people? They can't be turned.. They would have killed our people on the road if Daryl hadn't taken them out. And we don't even know how many of them there are."

Morgan's was defiant. "There has to be another way."

"I agree." Much to Morgan's surprise, Carol chimed in. The two of them rarely saw eye-to-eye. Carol showed no mercy when it came to protecting the ones she loved. "I think there's another way."

Rick was anxious to hear anything resembling a plan. "What do you have in mind?"

"We need to learn more about these people. We need to find out where they're camped out, how many of them there are, what kind of resources they have. When they come back tomorrow you can tell them we agree to their trade, but you want to see how we'll be protected first. You'll tell them you want them to take me back to meet Negan."

"Absolutely not." Rick was adamant. "It's too dangerous. You can't go with them. They could kill you. No, when they come back we take them all out and if more show up, then we take them out too." Mulder's words still echoed in his mind. _The human threat will never go away. This is our ticket to a new home._

"Rick, this is our best option." Carol went on. "We don't know how many of them there are. Who knows how many people will show up at our gate if we start this war. We have to be smart about this. We have to find their weakness."

"What if they don't have a weakness?" Morgan asked.

"Everyone has a weakness." Carol replied. Then to Rick she said, "This is our best chance of coming out of this alive. You've seen how invisible I can be. They don't know who I am or what I'm capable of. But I can infiltrate their group and find their weak spot." Rick shook his head with his hands on his hips, refusing to make eye contact with her. He didn't like this plan, but he knew she was right. Carol pressed on. "I'll find their weak spot. I'll get out. And then you can have your war."

"Why does it have to end in war?" Morgan wanted to know. "Why can't we coexist peacefully with this new group of people? They are just people."

"They're bad people, Morgan." Carol was stern now. She was worried Morgan might be their weakness. He had to learn what was necessary to survive in this world. "All I'm trying to do is protect what's still good in this world."

"And how is killing people good?" Morgan refused to believe murder was the only option.

"It comes down to us or them, Morgan." She wasn't trying to judge him or his beliefs. She just wanted him to accept reality. "We know you're a good guy. We know Negan and his crew are not good guys. If it comes down to saving you or them, I'm picking you every time." She gazed deep into his eyes, willing him to accept what she was trying to tell him. "You should pick yourself too."


	18. Chapter 18

"He is absolutely perfect." Scully was fussing over Maggie's sleeping baby. Looking at his peaceful face it was easy to forget all the problems of the world. Maggie observed Scully closely. She could see the pure joy in her face, but there was sadness there too.

Cautiously, Maggie asked, "Have you and your husband ever thought of having another child?"

Scully was confused by the wording of the question. For a few seconds she didn't know what Maggie was talking about. Then it dawned on her. "Mulder and I have never talked about having another baby. And he's not my husband."

"Oh," Maggie felt a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry for assuming."

"It's fine." Scully realized it was a natural conclusion to come to. "My relationship with Mulder is…" She paused and tried to come up with an accurate word to describe what she and Mulder were to each other. She couldn't come up with anything that fit. "I guess it's complicated. We were partners first. Then we were friends. At times we were more than friends. We've experienced so much together. I think we have a closeness that very few people ever get to experience. But I don't know that we will ever have any sort of romantic relationship again. And I'm not sure what name you would give to whatever he is to me now."

Maggie thought that over. "The whole world is upside down. I don't think it really matters what you call anything anymore. You're both just lucky to still have eachother."

Scully smiled at that. She knew she was lucky that they were both still alive and that they had managed to stay together this long. She was about to say something else when the door opened. Denise poked her head in and said, "Rick's assembling everyone in the courtyard. He has something to tell us."

Scully thought maybe Rick was going to share Mulder's evacuation plan with the rest of the group. She hadn't mentioned it to Maggie yet. The urgency in Denise's voice told her it might be something more.

Everyone made their way to the courtyard. Mulder found Scully and sat down next to her while the rest of the Alexandrians filed in. Daryl stood on the opposite side of the space, still livid and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

Rick waited until everyone had gathered around and then he began. "Most of you saw what just happened here. We have a new threat to contend with." The people who hadn't been at the gate when Negan's men arrived looked panicked. "A group of men came to our gate, to our home, claiming they wanted to trade. They want our resources in exchange for their protection. But we know that's not really a trade. They're threatening our people and our town unless we give them what they're asking for."

Daryl interrupted, "Why didn't you kill them?" He was angry with himself for not being there. He wouldn't have hesitated to destroy anyone who showed up at his front door hurling threats. He wished he had followed Rick out of Deanna's office when Morgan came to fetch him.

"Believe me, I wanted to." Rick couldn't begin to describe the amount of willpower it had taken him to not pull that trigger. "But we need to understand the magnitude of the threat we're facing. They say they're working for a man named Negan." Daryl froze upon hearing that name. "Yes," Rick continued, "That Negan. Obviously we can't give them what they're asking for. We barely have enough to survive on as it is. But we can't eliminate this threat until we know how to hit them where it hurts." Rick paused here. He didn't like Carol's plan and he didn't want to say it outloud, even though he knew she was right. Sharing it with the rest of the group would make it feel real. Finally he said it. "Carol is going to infiltrate Negan's group. When they come back here tomorrow, she's going to go with them."

"Like hell she is!" Daryl was not going to let this happen. Carol was one of the few people left in this world who he considered family.

"Daryl," Carol spoke up. "This is the way it has to be. It has to be me. I'm the last person they'd suspect. Once I've spent some time there, I'll figure out how we can defeat these people and then I'll come back." She was calm. She had thought this through. She knew Daryl wasn't going to like it, but she had to go.

"Then I'm coming with you." Daryl was by her side. His need to protect her was overwhelming.

"Sweetie, you can't. You were the one who took out their men. If they suspect, even for a second, that we were somehow involved in that, then we'll probably all be dead." Carol had thought this through too. It would be too dangerous. He would slip up and put the whole plan at risk.

"Well you can't go alone. You can't just go walking into the lion's den by yourself." Daryl was still furious, but now also feeling a little desperate.

"I'll go with you." All eyes were on the young brunette sitting next to Denise.

Denise immediately gripped her hand and said, "Tara, no!"

"I will. I'll go with you." Tara was determined.

Carol shook her head. "Tara, I'm going alone. There's no reason for you to put yourself at risk. I can handle this."

Tara stood up. "I have to go. I have to be a part of this." She looked to Glenn. Glenn had been the first member of this group Tara ever properly met. At the time she had been on the wrong side of a standoff between Rick's people and another group. She had gone with that group because she had run out of options. She didn't stop to think through what she was doing. So many lives were lost that day. She had regretted it every day since. If Rick intended to take out all of Negan's men, she needed to meet them for herself. She had to know that this was the right thing to do, that it was for the greater good. And she had to know that there wasn't a lost soul on the other side that just needed to see clearly what was happening.

Glenn could see the guilt in her eyes. He knew why she felt she had to go with Carol. He didn't want to see her go, but he knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she stayed. "She needs to go," Glenn said. Then to Carol, "You need to take her with you."

Carol wasn't usually one to take orders, but she could see the resolution in Glenn's face. She wasn't going to fight him on this issue. She turned to Tara. "Only if you're sure."

Tara looked into Denise's eyes, which were begging her not to go. She gave Denise's hand a squeeze and with an apologetic look she said, "I'm sure."

"So that's it then," Rick said. He felt a little better knowing Carol wouldn't be going alone. "When those men come back tomorrow we tell them this is the deal. Carol and Tara will go with them and see how Negan's group operates. We tell them that we'll agree to their trade after our people return."

"What about the other plan, Rick?" Mulder asked. With all the commotion, most of the group had forgotten that Mulder had a scheme of his own. "Don't you think that might be another way out of this situation?"

Rick hadn't forgotten Mulder's plan. He had been mulling it over. As far fetched as it seemed, he felt like he couldn't discount it as a possibility. It was risky, but so was staying in one place for too long. "I think it's worth looking into."

Daryl scoffed at Rick's apparent acceptance. "How many hairbrained ideas are you agreeing to today, Rick?"

"Hey, I just said we'd look into it." Rick couldn't help but feel like Daryl was right. He questioned whether or not he was making the right choices.

"Well while we're looking into it," Mulder said to Rick, "Negan's men may be looking into murdering the lot of us. If we go through with it, they would come back to find an empty town. A lot less blood would be shed."

"It's not that simple. We can't just pack up and leave. This would take planning, time."

Rick's words got the attention of the entire community. They didn't know what Mulder's plan was yet. Murmurs of, "What do you mean 'leave'?" and, " What plan?" spread throughout the group.

Rick decided it was best to share Mulder's idea with the group. "Mulder believes he has a long term solution to our situation."

Mulder interjected, "A permanent solution."

Rick was starting to realize how crazy this idea really sounded so he asked Mulder to explain it to everyone. And he did. He told them about the ARVs, how they came to exist, where they were located, and his plan to use them to leave earth and colonize an alien planet. He told them everything he had explained to Rick and Daryl earlier that same day. He explained that this was their best hope for the future. This was their only way out of this mess.

After he finished there was a long silence. Between all this new information and the imminent threat of Negan and his men, this community was on overload. Everyone was trying to be open minded, but it was just too much.

Finally Eugene broke the silence. "These alien replica vehicles, you say you have a schematic?"

Mulder nodded, feeling validated by Eugene's apparent enthusiasm. "A schematic as well as an operations manual."

Eugene stood and faced Rick, like a soldier ready for battle. "I would like to volunteer to pilot this vehicle. I know I've let you down in the past, but this is exactly the type of thing I can excel at. You all know I'm not a fighter. Combat is not my forte. I may not be brave, but I am smart and I assure you this is well within my skill set."

Abraham had something to say about that. "Hold your horses there, Scooter. No one's asking for sign-ups just yet." Then to Rick he said, "You can't be serious about this. You want to go pay a visit to the little green men who got us into this genealogical mess in the first place?"

"Hey!" Mulder was defensive. "It was not the aliens' fault. They crash-landed here. Everything else was due to the actions of our own government."

"Whatever, this is still nuts. Rick are you really considering this?" Abraham thought this must be some kind of joke.

Rick looked around at the faces of the people surrounding him. These people looked to him for guidance, to make decisions, to lead them toward a better future. "I've been trying to come up with a better plan ever since the outbreak. And so far I haven't gotten anywhere. This sounds like it might at least be worth checking out."

Abraham backed down. He still thought it sounded crazy, but he reminded himself that a couple days prior the thought of alien DNA in every human on earth sounded crazy too. But now he had come to believe it to be true.

Rick tried to sound confident. "This is what we're going to do. Carol and Tara need to go find out what Negan's weakness is. We have to be prepared to fight them in the smartest way possible. In the meantime we'll send a scouting party out to the nearest ARV location and see if the thing even exists. We will have to assemble the supplies we would need in case this turns out to be a viable plan."

He knew these people would follow him to the ends of the earth and beyond. They trusted him to keep them safe. He knew that if he believed in this plan, they would believe in it too. He just had to make sure they understood what they were signing up for. With a heavy sigh he added, "You all have to keep in mind that this is a one way ticket. If we leave this planet, we are never coming back."


	19. Chapter 19

Later that evening Denise paced the floor of the kitchen in the home she shared with Tara. Her brow creased with worry. She chewed on her fingernails as she racked her brain for anything she could possibly say that might convince Tara to change her mind. It wasn't unusual for Tara to go out on runs with Glenn or some of the others, searching for food and supplies. It wasn't unusual for Denise to stay behind. Those runs already stressed Denise out so badly that she could hardly eat until Tara returned. But she had come to accept that stress as part of life. If you were going to open yourself up to caring about someone, that worry was part of the bargain.

This mission she wanted to go on now was a whole different story. Denise couldn't stand the thought of Tara getting into a truck and riding off with those strange and dangerous men. There had to be some way she could persuade her not to go.

"You're going to wear out the floor if you keep pacing like that." Tara tried to lighten the mood.

Denise stopped pacing. "Isn't there someone else who could go with Carol instead? Why does it have to be you?"

Tara opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. A small part of her wanted to explain to Denise why it had to be her. The only people who knew about her involvement with the man who once called himself the Governor were Glenn and Maggie. Glenn knew because he had helped her escape the war that erupted when the Governor's group came head to head with Rick's team. She had stood outside the fence of the prison that the people who were now her friends had once called home. She had stood beside a man who turned out to be more evil than she could have ever imagined. She stood by his side while he brutally killed Maggie's father right in front of her. She stood by while he destroyed the safety and sanctity of the fortress that group depended on. She had stood by and let it all happen.

When the dust settled and it seemed like everyone left in the world was dead, Glenn had saved her. He helped her escape and he brought her into his group. Tara eventually told Maggie that she had been part of the small army that destroyed her home and her family. She didn't think she'd be able to live with herself if she didn't confess her role in that battle. Much to her surprise, Maggie had forgiven her. After that she never spoke of it again. In the beginning she was worried that if people knew what she'd done she would be kicked out of the community. Later it just seemed like ancient history she didn't want to relive.

She knew Denise cared about her. That she wouldn't be judged if she shared this part of herself. Yet she couldn't bring herself to say it. So instead she just asked Denise to trust her. "It has to be me. I'm sorry I can't explain why, but please trust me when I say it has to be me."

Denise placed her hands on the counter, trying to steady the emotions that were reeling inside of her. "I do trust you. But I need you to trust me when I say I can't live with the thought of you out there with those people."

Tara was touched by how much Denise cared for her. She wanted to dispel her worry. "Listen, I know how to take care of myself. I'm not going to let those people hurt me. I just need to see them for myself. I need to know if there's anyone over there who doesn't deserve to be a part of this war."

"You don't deserve to be a part of this war." Denise was stubborn, unwilling to let Tara talk her out of her fears.

"I do. More than you know. But I will be safe. I have someone very important who I need to get home to." She smiled, catching Denise's eyes. Denise smiled back. There would be no changing Tara's mind. She leaned in for a kiss as her way of telling Tara she wasn't happy about it, but she wouldn't try to stop her.

"Plus," Tara added, "I'll be with Carol the whole time. If those men had any idea what that woman is capable of they would be quaking in their boots right now."

Carol sat on her porch swing with a cigarette hanging off her lips, trying to get her lighter to work. It was almost out of juice and she was losing her patience with it. She looked up in annoyance just as Daryl came up the steps and pulled his own lighter out of his pocket.

"I'll trade you a light for a smoke," he said, extending the lit flame in her direction.

She leaned in and let him light her cigarette for her and then took another one out of her pack for him. She lit it with her own cigarette and handed it to him. She patted the swing for him to sit down beside her. "So does this mean you forgive me for suggesting this mission?"

Daryl sat down and put his arm around her. She was his rock, his friend, his family. He didn't want her to go, but he had already accepted that there would be no changing her mind. He was resigned, but still unhappy. "Nope. I think we should just kill whoever shows up at our gate. There's no reason for you to go running off with them."

"What if they just keep coming? What if we use up all our firepower? What if we suffer too many casualties?"

He squeezed her in close to him. "Relax. I'm not trying to talk you out of it. But I don't gotta like it."

She smiled at him. "No, you don't."

"I'm putting my foot down on one thing though."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"You're not going in there unarmed."

Carol rolled her eyes. She didn't feel he was being realistic. "There's no way they're going to let me waltz into their camp with a gun on my hip. The whole point of this mission is intelligence recon. This is not the battle."

"You need a weapon." He said it slowly, insistently.

"I am the weapon." She said it with fire in her eyes. Carol wasn't just trying to make him feel better. She truly believed what she said. Negan and his men would all die eventually. She would make sure of that.

Daryl was impressed with her confidence. He knew she was right. Her camouflage, her innocent look, her ability to fade into the background, would be the ultimate downfall of Negan and his men. Still, he needed her to have some measure of protection.

"I got you something." He reached into his pocket.

"Why Daryl Dixon, it's not even my birthday," she teased.

He produced a thin, but strong length of wire with a metal loop on one end and a T-handle on the other. He placed it in her palm. "You're a weapon alright. But you need to have some way to protect yourself. Put it up your sleeve or whatever you've got to do. If you think Negan or anyone else is going to hurt you in any way." He put his hand under her chin to direct her eyes toward his. He needed her to understand how serious he was. "You wrap this around his neck and you choke the life right out of him."

Carol held up the length of wire, considering the simplicity of the weapon. Like her, it could be easily hidden, but deadly. She gently placed it around her own neck and pushed the T-handle through the loop to form a sort of necklace. "What do you think?" She modeled her new weapon as if it were a piece of jewelry.

"I think," Daryl replied, running his finger over the delicate wire. "It blends right in."

In the house next door Scully stood at the window, watching this scene and fingering the gold cross she wore around her neck. It was an old habit of hers. Feeling the solid metal against her skin made her feel secure. Her faith, no matter how much she was forced to question it, gave her comfort. Mulder was an atheist. At times he had mocked her religion. She found it completely ridiculous that he couldn't believe in anything spiritual, given all the outlandish things he did believe in.

"Hey," Mulder said from behind her. "Are you okay?" He recognized her fidgety habit as a sign of worry. He knew he hadn't been very attentive to her lately. He had felt himself becoming engrossed with his escape plan. He needed to immerse himself in it completely in order to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. That's what he had always needed when it came down to his most complex theories. And it had helped him shape their possibility for escape. But that meant he hadn't really checked in with Scully.

She didn't answer whether or not she was okay. Instead she asked, "Do you really believe?"

"Do I believe what exactly?" He was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at, but wanted to hear her out.

"Do you really believe your plan can work? Or do you just want to believe?"

Mulder let out a heavy sigh and moved in to stand close to her. "Scully, I truly believe that this will work. I believe we can escape this earth and all the horrors it contains. I believe we can start a new life on another planet. I believe we will be safe. And I believe this is the only thing that can save us."

Scully searched his face, trying to see whatever it was that gave him so much confidence. She would do anything to feel half as confident as he did. "Why? How? How can you have so much faith?"

He could see she needed some reassurance. She trusted him, but trust could only bring her so much comfort when he was proposing something that sounded so insane. He wrapped his arms around her. "My faith comes from Samantha."

"Samantha?" Scully asked, pulling out of his embrace to look him in the eye. "Your sister?"

Mulder nodded. "Yes, she's the reason I have so much faith this plan will work."

"But Mulder, she was taken when you were 12 years old. You've spent a lifetime trying to find out what became of her."

He smiled. "I have. I spent my whole life searching for her. And do you know why?"

"Because of the injustice of it all. Because she was just a young girl. She didn't deserve her fate." Scully didn't understand what he was trying to tell her.

He shook his head. "It's true, it was unfair for her to be taken from her family. But that's not why I've searched for her for so long. The reason I never gave up is because not one day has gone by since she was taken that I thought she might not be alive."

"Oh, Mulder. I know you want to believe that, but it's been decades. They traded an alien fetus in exchange for her. Surely whatever experiments they wanted her for...honestly I would hope she didn't survive long. That she wouldn't have to endure…" Scully trailed off. She was looking for reassurance but all she felt now was grief for a young girl she had never even met.

"I don't believe it. I believe she's still out there. I believe it because from time to time I've been able to feel her presence. When I need her most I can sense her proximity, almost like she's in the room." Mulder was smiling, but it wasn't the manic smile Scully had seen on him earlier. It was thoughtful and sincere.

"I felt her when you were taken," Mulder continued, recalling Scully's abduction. "It was almost as if she guided me to you. I felt her the day William was born." Scully flinched when he spoke their son's name, but he went on. "I felt her the night I killed Spender. And I felt her this morning when this plan clicked into place in my head. In a way I feel like this is her plan, not mine. She's just showing me the way."

He knew Scully couldn't feel what he felt. That she might not understand how strongly he held this conviction. But he knew how much she trusted him, and he hoped that would be enough.

He reached out and touched the cross on her necklace. "That's my faith, Scully. That's why I believe."

 _Rick is walking through the streets of Alexandria at night. Suddenly Carl is standing before him. His eye patch is missing. His face is intact, but his eyes are closed. His mouth is moving, but Rick can't hear him. He moves in closer to make out the soft words. Carl is asking, "Dad, where is Judith?" over and over. Suddenly Carl's eyes flicker open, but they're not eyes at all. They're large black orbs. Rick wants to look away, but he can't. The glossy blackness is sucking him in. It's sucking out his life force; his soul._

Rick sat up in his bed, breathing hard and reaching for his gun. Michonne jumped out of bed and grabbed her sword, thinking he had sensed some unseen danger.

"It's okay," he said to himself as much as to her. "It was just a dream. It was just a bad dream."

Michonne got back into bed and curled up close to him, trying to help him calm down. "That's not like you. You're not much of a dreamer."

Rick knew she was right. He was sometimes restless at night, but when he did sleep it was usually dreamless. He wondered why that was. Then a thought occurred to him. "Maybe I don't dream because I'm always too busy surviving. I don't usually have time to think past the immediate threat." He looked into her eyes. "This is the first time in a long time I've felt like there was a way out."

She smiled at him. "You might be onto something."

He stared up at the ceiling, thoughts running through his mind. Doubt was creeping in and clouding his head. After a long while he asked Michonne, "Am I doing the right thing? Sending Carol and Tara into the enemy's lair? Searching for some spaceship that may or may not exist? Have I lost my mind?"

Michonne slid her hand into Rick's hand and squeezed it tight. "I'll admit, it does seem crazy. But that doesn't mean you're not doing the right thing. I was crazy to pass through a herd of walkers, approach a prison gate, and try to help some people I'd never met before. That doesn't mean it was wrong."

He smiled at the memory of the first moment he met Michonne. She had been standing outside his gate with a basket full of baby formula for Judith and a warning that his friends were in danger. He did think she was crazy at the time. But he was thankful every day that she had come into his life. Still, he didn't feel fully confident in the choices he was making now.

Michonne could see the worry in his eyes. She took on a serious tone. "Rick, if I didn't think you were doing the right thing I would be the first one to talk you out of it. I know this seems crazy, but sometimes crazy is the only option. As much as I love playing house with you here, I think we know that this place isn't permanent. It's too big to hide. Someone will always try to take it from us. We're strong, but we will continue to lose people if we try to keep defending Alexandria. If there's even a small chance that we could escape this world that's crumbling around us, then we have to at least try. Sometimes crazy isn't just the last option. Sometimes it's the salvation you were too afraid to believe in."


	20. Chapter 20

Spencer stood in the guard tower, gazing over Alexandria's wall. It was hot enough that sweat was beading on his brow, but his hands and feet felt ice cold. He tightly gripped his rifle and scanned the horizon, seeing no sign of movement. Yet. Abraham had volunteered to take his shift, to await the arrival of Negan's men. Spencer would have been more than happy to trade shifts with the former military sergeant. He didn't relish the idea of being the one to greet the dangerous party when they arrived. But Rick had insisted. He wanted Negan and his crew to know as little about Alexandria as possible. The men had already seen Rick and Spencer. They didn't need to see anyone else if it wasn't necessary. Plus Abraham had been part of the trio who had taken out a group of Negan's men on the road. All of Negan's people who had been there that day had died, leaving no witnesses. Still, Rick didn't want to run the risk of them making the connection between his own people and that incident.

So Spencer waited, watching for anyone approaching, listening for the sound of truck engines. A walker staggered onto the road off in the distance. He raised his rifle to peer through his scope. He wanted a better look at the corpse. It was a woman. She was short. The clothes looked about right, but the hair was all wrong. It wasn't her. It wasn't his mother, Deanna. Her body had never been found after the night all hell broke loose. It had been the night the walkers roamed the streets of Alexandria. It had been the night Carl had lost his eye. It had been the night his mother died trying to protect the home she had built to keep her family safe. It had been the night he'd lost his last living family member. Spencer lowered his gun.

"Hey," Rick whispered quietly from the ground below the tower. "Is it them?" He had noticed Spencer's gun raised and thought Negan's men were approaching. Spencer shook his head.

Rick's gaze shifted from Spencer to Carol, who stood before him. "How long do you think you'll be gone?" He still wasn't thrilled about her leaving, but he had convinced himself that this was the smartest plan available to them.

"If I'm lucky only a day or two. If I'm not lucky," Carol shrugged. Her plan hinged on finding Negan's weak spot. She knew she could blend in easily, but she didn't know how long it would take to discover his achilles heel. It all depended on how forthcoming he was with information. But once she was in the hornet's nest, she knew she couldn't leave until she got what she came for.

Daryl, who was standing by her side, finished her thought for her. "You'll be lucky. You have to be. We need you back here real soon."

Rick didn't believe in luck. "Listen, if you think things are starting to go South, I want you and Tara to get out of there. Trust your gut. If it's not going to work we'll find another way."

"It's going to work." Carol was positive. She wouldn't return without a plan to defeat Negan.

Rick shook his head. He knew how stubborn she could be. She wouldn't bail on this plan even if it meant compromising her own safety. For the first time he felt good about sending Tara with her. If she wouldn't get out to save herself, she would at least get out to save Tara. Just as the thought occurred to him Tara approached with Denise by her side.

"Are you ready?" Carol asked.

Tara looked to Denise and smiled. Then she nodded. "I'm ready."

"Listen," Carol said in her motherly tone. "I don't want you to talk to Negan unless you absolutely have to. Leave him to me and just try to lay low."

"Don't worry, I have no interest in talking to him. I'm interested in everyone else."

Carol gave her a little pat on the shoulder. "Good girl."

The group turned as Scully approached. "Hi," she said, more to Carol than to the rest of them. "I wanted to give you something to take with you."

"Give me something?" Carol was surprised.

Scully extended her hand toward Carol. In her palm was a small gold cross; the one she wore on a chain around her neck. "I wanted you to take this. I thought it might help disguise your garrote." Carol's hand immediately went to the weapon she was wearing as a necklace.

"But this means something to you. This is important." Carol was taken aback. She couldn't believe that this woman whom she had met just four days prior was offering her one of the few possessions she had left in this world. "I can't take this from you."

"I want you to take it." Scully was insistent. "I want to help in any way that I can. If it could offer you a tiny measure of protection or security, then I want you to have it."

Carol shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, but Scully took Carol's hand and placed the crucifix in her palm. She closed her fingers around the small pendant. "Please, just take it. You can give it back to me when you get home safely."

Carol was so touched by the gesture that she couldn't find any words to express her gratitude. She smiled and gave a small nod.

Daryl, standing behind her, was also moved by Scully's offering. "Thank you," he said on Carol's behalf. He knew it wasn't just a disguise or something to mislead the men who would be taking her away soon. It was something to anchor her, to make her accountable, to bring her back home. Safely.

"Rick." All eyes looked upward to Spencer. "It's them."

"How many are there?" Rick wanted to be sure they weren't returning with an army.

"Same two trucks. Looks like eight of them again. Probably the same guys."

Rick held up his radio and pressed the button. "We've got two trucks approaching the gate. Is the rest of the perimeter clear?" From the other guard towers around the fenceline, one by one each of the other lookouts checked in.

Rosita's voice came through the radio. "Southside is clear."

Then Carl, "Northside, clear."

Eugene was last. "Affirmative, Westside is all clear."

Rick pointed to Daryl. "You better get inside somewhere. When we pull this wall back I don't want them to see you. Denise, you and Scully have to get hidden too. I don't want them to see anyone they don't have to."

Denise pulled Tara into a tight embrace and then gave her a kiss, hoping it wouldn't be their last. "Hurry back," she said and then turned to lead Scully somewhere safe.

Daryl placed his hands on Carol's shoulders. "Remember what I told you. I know you want to blend in over there. But if you think, even for a second."

Carol cut him off. "I know, choke the life out of them." He searched her eyes for a moment until he felt her silent promise. She would take care of herself. She would come back home. He gave her a small kiss on the forehead. Then, with a small nod to Rick, he disappeared into the streets of Alexandria.

The trucks rolled up to the gate and the men filed out of them. They were the same men from the day before. Spencer trained his rifle on the leader; the one who had done all the talking the day before.

"So," the man said. "Where's your fearless leader? Thought he'd be waiting for us with bells on."

Spencer held his gun steady. "He's here. He wants to know your name."

The man chuckled. "This guy sure is big on names considering he never told me his."

Spencer didn't blink. He waited.

"Okay, I guess proper introductions are in order. I already told you we work for Negan. My name is Dwight. We are The Saviors." He gave an exaggerated bow and added, "At your service."

Dwight jumped as Rick rolled back the wall about a foot, just enough that they could talk face to face through the gate. "There he is. I was thinking you were gonna stand us up. That wouldn't have been very polite."

Rick didn't say a word, he just glared at the man through the bars of the gate. Seeing him up close he noticed a large scar on the left side of Dwight's face. It looked like a bad burn that had healed over. Rick wondered at the cause of the scar. Was he wounded in a battle with another group much like Alexandria? Or could this be from one of his own men?

"Well," Dwight prodded him. "Are you going to introduce yourself?"

Rick let him wait a few seconds before giving his name. "I'm Rick Grimes."

Dwight gave him a sinister smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Rick Grimes. Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Yes," Rick replied with an equally sinister look. "Business. Here's the thing. We'll accept your deal, but we have a condition."

"Negan's not really the type to go in for conditions. If you mean to bargain with him I don't think you understand what you're in for."

Rick waited. He would not take no for an answer. When Dwight couldn't take it anymore he asked, "What's your condition?"

"We'll agree to this trade, as you like to call it. But first we need to understand the type of protection we'll be given. We want to meet Negan."

"Trust me when I say you don't want a house call from Negan."

"I'm not asking for one."

"What exactly is it you're asking for, Rick Grimes?"

Rick's stomach was twisted up in knots, although he wasn't going to let it show on his face. He didn't want to tell him what their condition was. He didn't want to send his people off with Dwight even though he knew it was the best option they had. Still, once he said it there would be no taking it back. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to spit out the words. "I want to send two of my people with you right now. You're going to take them to meet Negan. If we're going to make a deal we need to see who's running the show."

Dwight let out a loud laugh. "You want me to take two of your people back to Salvation? Sorry, Negan's not gonna go for that."

"How do you know?" Rick shot back. "You said yourself, you're not in charge."

Dwight glared at Rick, but didn't respond.

"Either you agree to our condition and you take my two people with you right now, or you go back to your Salvation empty handed and tell your boss we don't have a deal."

Dwight continued his glare, mulling over the outcomes of those two options in his head. Finally he said, "Let's see your two people."

Rick rolled the wall back a couple more feet to reveal Carol and Tara standing by his side. Dwight looked the two women up and down with a sad expression on his face. He laughed a little, but it was clearly forced. He shook his head. He looked Rick in the eyes and asked, "You sure this is what you want? Do you understand what you're offering him."

Rick looked to Carol, who was already donning her innocent, docile housewife act. He looked back to Dwight. "This is the only way it's going to work. You take my people. They meet Negan. You bring them back. We trade. It's either this or no deal."

Dwight took a long, slow breath in and out through his nose. "Well, Rick Grimes, I guess you've got yourself a deal." Without breaking eye contact with Rick he said to his men, "Search them for weapons, blindfold them and load them up."

Rick took a last long look at Tara and Carol. He told himself again that he was doing the right thing. That they would be home safe in a couple days. He had to believe that. That was the only way he could let them go. It was the only way he could feel comfortable making this decision. Then he saw that fiery look in Carol's eyes. The look that meant she was unstoppable. She would persevere. She would come home safely. She gave him the tiniest of smiles to reassure him and he realized this was never his choice to make. It was hers.

"I'll see you soon," she whispered. Then she pulled the gate open and she and Tara strolled out of Alexandria. She didn't look back.


	21. Chapter 21

Carol held Tara's hand tightly in her own as they bounced down the pothole-ridden road, squished together in the back seat of one of the Savior's pick up trucks. They were both blindfolded with some sort of putrid smelling rags. Carol noticed that if she looked down as far as possible, she could see out the bottom of the blindfold just a crack. She could see her own hands and one of Tara's. She could see her lap and a portion of the leg belonging to the man shoved in next to her. But most importantly she could see the sunlight shining in. When the light shifted she could tell which direction the vehicle was turning. She carefully kept track of which way they were heading. Song lyrics played on a loop in her head, over and over, to gauge the approximate amount of time they had been traveling. She was building a mental roadmap that she hoped would lead her back home once she'd gotten what she came for.

After two dozen repetitions of Bon Jovi's _Living on a Prayer_ the truck finally slowed to a stop. The driver killed the engine and then there was a lot of shuffling around before Tara and Carol were unceremoniously yanked out of the vehicle. Dwight pulled the blindfolds off both women and made a sweeping gesture with his arms. "Ladies, welcome to Salvation."

Carol craned her neck upward to get a full view of the factory that stood before them. The main structure was about four stories high with shorter segments on either side and large smoke stacks on top. A fire escape snaked up the front of the aging but sturdy building. It was protected on all sides by chain link fencing and razor wire.

"Let's move." Dwight shoved the ladies forward, leading them into the factory. They were lead through the front doors and down a series of hallways until they arrived at a closed door. Dwight paused here.

To the other men in his scouting party he said, "Hold them here. I'm going to explain this to him first." With that, Dwight opened the door and disappeared.

Carol listened hard, trying to make out the conversation that was happening on the other side of the door. Everything was too muffled. She couldn't tell what Dwight was saying or how many people were in the room. Suddenly she heard a loud, maniacal laugh followed by a man's booming voice. "That son of a bitch did what? Send them in here."

The door swung open and Dwight motioned for them to step inside. "You're up, sweetheart," he said with a menacing grin toward Carol.

Cautiously, the two women crossed the threshold and came face to face with the man known only as Negan. A hulking man with slicked back hair and a leather jacket sat before them. He did not rise to greet them. Carol's eyes immediately shot toward his feet. Leaning against his chair was a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. It was stained with the blood of who knows how many victims; living or dead, she would never know. The sight of it turned the blood in her veins to ice. She gave a noticeable shudder. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, Negan noticed her fear immediately.

"So," Negan began. "It seems your leader likes to play by his own rules. He sent me a couple of pawns instead of accepting the generous offer I extended. Tell me, honey, how does it feel to know that he values you so little?"

Carol didn't have to try too hard to act scared and vulnerable. She had underestimated how intimidating this man would be. She stammered, "I just do as I'm told."

Negan looked her up and down and, with a tone that made Carol's skin crawl he said, "I bet you do."

In spite of her fear, Tara, who stood close by Carol's side, made a conscious effort to control the smile that wanted to escape her lips. She had never known Carol to take orders from anyone. But she stood stalk still and let Carol play her role.

Negan noticed Carol's eyes kept creeping down to take a peek at his weapon. "What are your names?"

Carol considered giving false names for just a moment and then decided against it. What harm could there be in giving her name to a man who would soon be dead? "I'm Carol and this is Tara." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Negan's lip curled up in a sneer. "Well Carol and Tara, I'd like to introduce you to Lucille." He picked up the bat and extended the tip of it toward Carol's face. She didn't back away but the smell made her want to retch. He studied Carol's face, trying to read her reaction. "The polite thing to do when you get introduced to someone is to say 'hello'"

Carol couldn't take her eyes off the bat, but she managed to squeak out a small, "Hello."

"Would you like to hold her?" There was a playfulness in Negan's eyes that caught Carol by surprise. She had imagined he would be unhappy that Rick had sent a couple of his people instead of the supplies that were requested. She had not expected him to enjoy this exchange so much.

"I don't…" Carol began, but Negan cut her off.

"Go ahead, hold her." It wasn't an offer or a request. It was an order.

He held the bat upright so that she could grab it by its handle. Reluctantly she reached out and took hold of it. As she wrapped her hands around the weapon a tremor shot through her. Negan read her reaction as pure fear. But what Carol truly felt was all the pain this man had inflicted with this hunk of wood. She felt all the authority he had claimed through violence. She felt all the lives he had ended to enhance his own. He was clearly a man of great power. Rick was also a man of great power, but his was gained through trust and respect. It was plainly evident that Negan ruled by fear. In another lifetime, respect usually outweighed fear in the end. But in this world, respect was not something so simply earned. Fear was a far more easily spent currency.

As she stood before Negan, holding what she believed to be his most precious tool, she was struck by the ease with which he had handed her such power. He had known her a total of about two minutes and he had already determined she was such an insignificant threat that he was willing to hand her the only weapon in the room. Then it occurred to her, maybe it wasn't just that he thought she wouldn't attack him. Maybe he was asserting his dominance. He wanted to show her that even though she was the only one armed, he was still the one in control here. He was showing her that he was in charge by forcing her to hold this extension of his ego, or his manhood. She suddenly felt like she might vomit. This man truly sickened her.

Negan seemed satisfied by the revulsion in her expression. He extended his hand to take the bat from Carol. He put it back in its place by his feet. "I'll tell you what. This Rick Grimes character, he's got a lot of fucking balls. I'll give him that." Negan laughed loudly. Carol wasn't sure if he was laughing at his own joke or at his assertion of dominance. "You ladies aren't really my usual type, but we'll see what we can do to make you comfortable here."

Tara took an involuntary step back. She didn't like what Negan was implying.

Negan stood and took a step toward her. "What is it, darlin'? Do I make you nervous?"

Tara knew she had vowed to let Carol do all the talking, but she couldn't control her disgust toward this man. With a snarky tone to her voice she said, "No, but you're not my usual type either."

Negan froze and for a moment Carol thought he was going to strike Tara. She weighed her options in her head. Should she let Negan hit her and continue her charade of being weak and helpless? Or should she defend her friend and comrade and try to take this man out right here and now? She was saved from having to make that decision by more uproarious laughter from Negan.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you've got a set of balls on you too. This Rick guy sure knows how to pick them. Is that why he sent you here? He wasn't your type either?"

Carol silently tried to will Tara not to respond. It didn't work. Tara replied, "You won't find a man in this world who is my type." Carol was starting to curse the decision to let her come along.

"One of those, huh?" Negan shook his head and walked toward the door. "Waste of skin if you ask me, but whatever." He opened the door and said something inaudible to Dwight who was still waiting right outside.

He turned to address the two women again. "Dwight is going to take you to your quarters. You can get yourselves cleaned up."

Carol felt a sudden urgency to move this plan along. "I don't know if Dwight explained to you why we're here. We didn't intend to stay long. Rick just wanted us to see how you operate. He wanted to know what kind of protection you were offering."

Negan squinted at her, as if he were trying to see her true motives. The gold cross hanging around her neck caught his eye. "I see you're a woman of faith." Carol's hand went to the pendant and she gave a small nod, not wanting to draw attention to her one and only weapon. "I'm going to ask you to have faith in my protection skills. Don't worry, little lady. You and your people will be taken care of." With a wicked sneer he added, "One way or the other."


	22. Chapter 22

Rick stood in Deanna's office studying the list Scully had prepared for him and attempting to rub the stress out of his temples. As soon as Carol and Tara had left with Dwight, he had to find a way to distract himself from his worry about the two of them. He turned his attention toward the other plans he had promised to enact. He needed to move forward with Scully's plan to extract and cultivate her DNA to help protect the rest of the Alexandrians from the fate of becoming walkers. He also needed to start making arrangements for Mulder's escape plan and finding the ARV. Scully's idea seemed like the more realistic of the two, so he started with that. As he puzzled over Scully's list he had no idea where they might find most of these supplies. One item in particular caught his eye.

"Chloroform?"

"It's for the phenol-chloroform mixture. Without more high tech equipment this is the only way we can extract the _arcB_ chromosome." Scully sat near the window looking a little sheepish. She knew the items she was asking for would be hard to come by. She hated to feel like she was asking for favors when she had so recently been accepted here. But she was determined to find a way to extract the necessary alien DNA from her own body in order to help her newfound friends.

"A centrifuge?" Rick questioned.

"It's for separating the DNA from the proteins," Scully explained.

As Rick continued to look doubtful and confused, Mulder chimed in. "It's that spinny thing you see in all the crime dramas on television."

"If you can't find one I can make do without it. It would just make the process easier." Scully had been spending most of her time searching her memory from medical school. DNA was discovered in the 1800s. It wasn't as if modern technology was necessary for what she was trying to do. But people didn't do this type of thing manually anymore. It had been decades since she had even thought about how to isolate chromosomes without all the high-tech gadgets and gizmos she was used to. Still, she knew it could be done and she was determined.

Rick set the list down on the desk and examined it from afar, as if that would somehow make the items more attainable. "There's a medical lab not far from here. We've been there before. It's picked over pretty bad. But people were mainly looking for first aid supplies and medicine. I doubt if anyone was looking for the type of stuff you need." He looked at Scully with apologetic eyes. He truly wanted to give her the things she was asking for. He just didn't know if he could.

"I think we have enough syringes and saline in the infirmary. I just don't want to exhaust the supply." Scully was equally apologetic. She wished she still had her lab and all her equipment. She wished what she needed didn't seem so impossible.

Rick give a quick nod of his head. "I'll send Daryl and someone else out on a run. They'll do the best they can."

"I'll go with him." Mulder raised his hand to volunteer for the mission.

Rick appraised Mulder. He knew any number of his own people would volunteer to accompany Daryl. He trusted Mulder now, but he wasn't sure he trusted Mulder's ability to defend himself.

Mulder sensed Rick's reluctance. "I was thinking we could make it a joint effort, scout out the ARV while we gather Scully's supplies."

Rick was still feeling less than confident about Mulder's evacuation idea. All the logical arguments against it still rattled around in his brain. He couldn't bring himself to fully accept it yet.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. Scully can't start on her DNA extraction until you get back with supplies. If you go looking for this ARV you won't be back for a few days at least."

Mulder was prepared for this resistance. "The closest one is in North Carolina. It's just over 200 miles from here. If we can take one of your vehicles and make good time we could be there and back in a day. Two days, tops. Plus think of all the medical supply places between here and Roxobel. We'd increase our odds of finding the items on that list dramatically."

Still, Rick hesitated. Once he sent a scout, once they found an ARV site, once they confirmed the ship was still there, he would have no choice but to accept this plan as viable. In some ways he felt better not knowing if the ARV existed. As long as he didn't know he didn't have to decide. But he knew eventually he would have to decide whether or not to send his people to another planet.

For the time being he decided to compromise. "How about you and Daryl go to the nearest medical lab. If you find what you need there, come straight back here. We'll send a scouting party to check out the ARV site soon after. If you don't find what you're after just keep heading toward North Carolina. If you're not back here in two days I'm sending a search team after you."

Mulder nodded his agreement, although, silently he vowed to himself that he would find a way to convince Daryl to continue on, regardless of the supplies at their first stop.

"Alright." Rick still felt uneasy, but at least now he felt like he knew what the next steps were. The hardest part of moving forward is taking the first step. "You can leave first thing in the morning. If you find what you need at the first stop, maybe you'll be able to make it back before dark. I'll go find Daryl. Let him know."

"Thank you," Scully said as Rick departed the room, leaving Scully and Mulder alone in Deanna's office.

Mulder approached the map. He gazed upon it longingly. He reached his hand up and touched a single finger to the push pin he had placed in Roxobel, North Carolina. _Please be there._ He needed to believe there was an escape. He needed to believe his sister, Samantha, was leading him in the right direction. That she was pulling him to her. Pulling him to safety.

Since this idea had come to him he had found himself again. The real Mulder had disappeared into a black hole of hopelessness a long time ago. This idea, this escape, had brought back his true self again, shining like a lighthouse through the fog.

Scully startled him by placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. He spun around to face her.

"Are you sure about this?" Scully asked. "Are you sure you want to go out there again? I'm sure Rick could send someone else."

Mulder had already made up his mind. "I'm sure. I need to go. I need to see it for myself."

Scully could see the determination in his eyes. She didn't like the idea of being separated from him. But she couldn't go with him and she couldn't ask him to stay. "I want you to know that I believe."

Mulder raised an eyebrow at her skeptically.

"I do, I believe in this. In you. In Samantha. All of it. Yesterday I wanted to believe. Today I believe."

He grinned at her. She knew how much her support meant to him. There was always a tiny trace of doubt in his mind when he got tangled up in one of his theories. If Scully, the woman the FBI had appointed to disprove his every finding, truly believed in him then he could finally erase that doubt. He gave her an appreciative kiss on the top of her head.

He grabbed some folded maps off of Deanna's desk. "Come on." He placed his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go rest up and I'm going to plot out my adventure." The childlike smile he wore was contagious and Scully smiled too as they headed back to their house.

They passed Carol's house, which Daryl sometimes shared with her, on the way to their own house. Rick and Daryl were standing on the front porch. Daryl's stance looked pointedly defiant. His arms were folded across his chest and he appeared to be grinding his teeth behind his pursed lips. As Mulder and Scully passed he caught Mulder's eyes. If looks could kill Mulder would have dropped dead right there. Daryl wasn't happy about his next assignment.

"What do you think he's so mad about?" Scully whispered.

"Let's just keep walking." Mulder muttered under his breath. Daryl never broke his stare until Mulder and Scully entered their house and shut the door.

Daryl turned his attention back to Rick. "I can go by myself."

Rick's calm and controlled demeanor was the only thing holding Daryl back from exploding. "You know we don't do that. No one leaves on their own. You've got to have someone to watch your back."

"Well what about Glenn, Aaron, Abraham? Anybody else?" Daryl trusted Rick and usually went along with anything he suggested, but he couldn't stomach the idea of two days on the road with Mulder.

"Hey," Rick said, making sure he had Daryl's full attention. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Daryl shrugged off the question.

"Do you not trust him? Did we make a mistake letting them stay here?"

Daryl searched his inner thoughts. Did he still trust Mulder? Yes, he decided he still trusted him. He believed Mulder would do whatever was necessary to protect him while they were outside the walls of Alexandria. He believed Mulder truly wanted what was best for this community and all the people in it. He was trying to believe Mulder's escape plan might not be complete insanity. So what was the problem? Mulder got under his skin, irritated him, made him feel unsettled. Daryl sighed. He would have to clear the air. Then they'd be able to coexist and embark on this supply search.

"It wasn't a mistake. I just need to set some things straight with him. That's all."

Rick searched Daryl's expression curiously. Daryl felt defensive and a little embarrassed that he had gotten so thrown off by Rick's request to go on this mission.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. We'll leave in the morning." Rick, feeling reassured, turned to leave Daryl to his business. Daryl peered through the window of the house next door. Scully was sitting in the living room writing something in a notebook. Mulder had a map spread out on the coffee table. Daryl's annoyance bubbled up again at the sight of him. He needed to take care of this. He wasn't going to let Mulder get the better of him. But first he needed to cool off a little.

Between his apprehension about Carol being gone and his aggravation surrounding his impending trip with Mulder, Daryl needed to keep himself occupied with other thoughts. He ducked inside and busied himself for a couple hours with preparing for the journey. He hoped they would only be gone a few hours. If they found the equipment necessary at their first stop, they could come straight back and be in Alexandria by lunch time. It was probably too much to hope for, but he planned on hanging onto that little bit of hope for a while. He packed an assortment of food, filled up water bottles, examined and repaired a few of his crossbow bolts.

He was running out of productive ways to avoid talking to Mulder when there came a knock on the door. Daryl swung the door open to find the very man he had been avoiding standing on the front porch holding a map and Scully's list in one hand and some sort of twig in the other. Daryl looked from the stick to Mulder in confusion.

"It was the closest I could find to an olive branch," Mulder said with a vexing smile.

The offering was so comical that Daryl forgot his irritation for a moment and invited him in. Mulder let himself into the kitchen and spread his map on the table. He wanted to discuss the route to the ARV site in North Carolina. Daryl stood by and silently listened to Mulder's proposed approach.

"The shortest route would be composed of highways, but obviously those are likely to be clogged up with abandoned vehicles. Backroads have a higher risk of running into walkers and possibly other people, but it will probably still be faster and safer than the main routes. It looks like there's a back road through here that would get us at least halfway through to Roxobel. Then we'd have to split off through city streets for a while. The good news is the ARV sites were chosen because they were essentially unpopulated. So once we get there I bet we won't run into many threats."

Daryl was further annoyed by the fact that Mulder was assuming they would be continuing through to North Carolina. "You know we might not even make it that far, right? If we find the stuff on that list we're turning around and coming home."

Mulder assessed Daryl. He was still riled up. Mulder didn't want to antagonize him further, but in his own mind he had already decided they had to go to scout out the ARV, regardless of the items of Scully's list. To pacify Daryl, Mulder agreed. "Of course, understood. I just want to be prepared in case we don't find what we're looking for at the first stop."

Daryl gave Mulder a smoldering look. He hated the way this man got under his skin. He needed to address what had happened between them before he could embark on this mission with him.

He blurted out, "I just want you to know I've never done anything like that before."

Mulder waited, relieved that they would be able to have an open discussion about what had happened the last time they were alone together.. He wanted to let Daryl get this out of his system so they could move forward.

"It was just…" Daryl paused, collecting his thoughts. "I don't know. I felt like you were challenging me or something. It was like I had to prove something to you."

Mulder took a step away from the table, wanting to give Daryl his space, wanting him to feel comfortable. "You don't have to prove anything to me. You don't have to explain yourself to me either. I'm not judging you." Mulder truly meant it. He had kissed Daryl with the intention of challenging him; with the intention of opening his mind. Daryl's reaction had been unexpected, but he certainly didn't owe Mulder an explanation. And Mulder was the last person who would judge anyone.

Daryl didn't take Mulder's remarks quite the way they were intended. It only angered him further. "I'm not apologizing, if that's what you're thinking.."

"I'm not asking you to," Mulder replied gently.

"Good!" Daryl shot back.

Mulder could still feel the tension in the room. He wanted to be on good terms with Daryl. Not just because he needed his help in getting to the ARV, but also because he genuinely liked him. Before coming to Alexandria he was convinced that there were no genuinely good people left on this earth. Daryl had proved him wrong.

Mulder tried to ease the tension. "Just tell me one thing." Daryl looked at him expectantly. Mulder gave him a devious smile and asked, "Did you like it?"

Daryl's eyebrows furrowed together and he gave Mulder a look of disgust and indignation. But he blushed in spite of himself.

Mulder seized the moment and pushed him further. Stepping toward Daryl he teased, "You liked it, didn't you?"

Daryl yelled at him in the toughest voice he could muster. "You shut your mouth, man!"

Mulder took another step toward him, grinning. "You did like it, didn't you?"

"Hey, I said shut the hell up!" But Daryl could no longer control the shadow of a smile that crossed his lips. Then suddenly they were both laughing; nervously, uncomfortably, but still laughing. Mulder leaned in and gave him a very light, brief kiss on the lips, testing the waters.. Daryl didn't fight it.

With a sense of victory in his voice, Mulder whispered, "I knew you liked it."

Daryl let out a resigned sigh and said, more to himself than to Mulder, "Son of a bitch."


	23. Chapter 23

Carol and Tara were shuffled off to another area of the factory by Dwight and a couple of his henchmen. Carol was still trying to keep careful track of the path they had taken in case she needed to make a hasty exit. But the layout of the factory was disorienting. Just as she was beginning to lose track of the twists and turns through the corridors, Dwight opened a door and brusquely ushered the two women through it.

The eyes of about half a dozen people inside turned to face the newcomers. Carol and Tara took in their new surroundings. They were in a large open sitting room decorated with a variety of ornate furnishings. In contrast to what they had seen of the rest of the factory, this room felt very feminine. So were its occupants. Carol immediately noticed that all the people staring at her were women. She instantly wondered if they were prisoners. Had she and Tara just walked into a trap they would be unable to escape?

One woman approached Dwight while sizing up Carol and Tara. The ease with which she approached him made Carol rethink her notion that she was a prisoner. Or maybe she had been a prisoner so long that she had become comfortable with her captors. Carol paid close attention, trying to read the dynamic between Dwight and this woman.

"What's the story with these two? Who are they?" The woman addressed Carol and Tara as if they weren't standing in the room.

"It's a long story." Dwight shook his head in exasperation. Clearly nothing about this mission had gone as planned. "They're from that settlement me and the boys went to check out. They're going to be staying here for a while."

"We don't plan to stay long." Carol chimed in, being sure to use her helpless and innocent voice and demeanor.

The woman circled around from Dwight's side to stand directly in front of Carol. She peered into her eyes until it became uncomfortable and Carol looked away.

"I'm Sherry," the woman said coldly. "Tell me something. You got a husband at this settlement you come from?" Carol shook her head no and Tara followed suit. "A boyfriend?" Again, the two women shook their heads. "Hmm, maybe it's better that way." Sherry's expression was sad and thoughtful. Her voice sounded far away.

Dwight cleared his throat to catch Sherry's attention again. "I gotta get back." He swallowed a lump in his throat. All the cockiness and bravado he had shown at Alexandria's gate had dissolved. It was easy for him to act big and tough in front of strangers who knew nothing about him. But here in his own home he was a small fish in a big pond. Carol noted the longing in Sherry's eyes before she waved Dwight a tiny farewell. He closed the door behind him, leaving the women alone.

Carol tried to read the faces of the women before her. She needed information, but she couldn't let them know that information was her main motive. She had to get them talking. As the silence in the room became awkward she decided to simply start by introducing herself. Dwight hadn't done much to explain their sudden appearance.

"I'm Carol and this is Tara. We were sent here by our leader to talk to Negan." At the sound of his name, one woman seated near the far end of the room visibly cringed, catching Tara's attention.

"Why?" asked Sherry. She gave Carol a cold, hard stare.

Carol wasn't sure what she was asking. "Why did we talk to Negan?"

Sherry took a step forward. "Why did your leader send you?" She put a strong emphasis on the word "you". It was meant as a judgement. She wanted to know why they had been chosen for this mission. But Carol could see there was also genuine curiosity there. This woman wanted information just as badly as she did. Maybe they were prisoners of some sort. Maybe Sherry didn't know what was going on out in the world and was testing the waters to see what kind of intel she could gain.

Carol wanted to offer her something, some small tidbit of information to see if she could get any useful knowledge in return. But she had to be careful to keep up her sweet and innocent act. "I didn't ask why. I guess he just figured this is where we would be most useful."

Sherry smirked. "Doesn't sound like he values you much. You know, I don't know what kind of man you think Negan is, but he does value us." The woman who had cringed at Negan's name turned and faced the window, looking like she wished she were invisible. Tara felt desperate to talk to her alone. She didn't seem like she fit in here. Tara had a feeling she didn't belong in this war.

Sherry continued. "He has rules. If you break the rules, there will be consequences. But he's fair and he tells you right up front what to expect. He takes care of his women and his children."

Carol wasn't sure how to respond. This woman was trying to convince her that Negan was a good man, a good leader. Everything she had witnessed had led her to believe otherwise. Carol couldn't see Negan as a fair and just ruler. She saw him as a manipulative, psychotic egomaniac. If Sherry was telling the truth then maybe this was his weak spot. He valued women and children. Carol searched her mind for how she could use that information against him. She came up empty. She'd have to keep fishing.

"We have rules where we come from too." Carol was determined to keep the dialog going, even though Sherry seemed to have some animosity toward her. "Everyone has to do their part. Just because our leader sent us here doesn't mean he doesn't value us."

Sherry let out a small laugh. "He sent you here alone, unprotected. He knows nothing about Negan or this group. He doesn't know where we are or how many of us are here. He sent you blindly to the wolves. Yet you think he values you?" She gave Carol a harshly appraising look up and down. "I bet you've been a doormat your whole life, haven't you."

Tara knew part of the game was appearing to be nonthreatening, but she couldn't let this woman talk to Carol like that. It was too much. She was about to speak up on Carol's behalf when the woman in the corner muttered, "Just leave them alone."

Carol felt relieved to have the attention in the room redirected. As everyone looked toward the woman in the corner she turned from the window to face Sherry. "Just leave them be. We're all in the same boat here. They're new, but what does it matter. We're all the same here. We're all stuck here. The least we can do is get along with each other." There was a sorrow in her voice that broke Tara's heart.

Sherry approached the woman and sat down beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Amber." There was an almost motherly tone to her voice. "You're right. I'm sorry."

A couple other women invited Carol and Tara to sit down and make themselves comfortable. Carol took the opportunity to ask about daily life at the factory. She wanted to know if there was a schedule, if everyone had a job to do, what would be expected of them while they stayed there. Sherry warmed up a bit and decided to fill Carol in on the day to day routine.

"Everyone is expected to pitch in. You won't be asked to leave the factory. Negan let's the men handle that. You're not expected to talk to anyone from the other settlements."

"Other settlements?" This might be some information Carol could use.

"Yeah," Sherry replied. "The other settlements we trade with." She gave Carol a searching look as she said their word "trade" as if she were trying to gauge how naive she really was. She was unsure if Carol knew how Negan's trade operated.

"How many other settlements are there?"

Sherry gave Carol a small smile, but there wasn't much kindness behind it. "Don't worry about that. Like I said, you won't be asked to deal with them."

Tara took advantage of the fact that the conversation was centered around Carol again. She slowly made her way over to where Amber was still seated near the window. "Hey," she said quietly. "Are you okay?"

Amber looked into Tara's eyes with a mournful expression. "I'm fine" She turned back to face the window.

"No really, are you okay? Did someone here hurt you?"

Amber looked to the rest of the women. No one was paying any attention to the two of them in the corner. "Look, you'll be fine. No one's going to hurt you. It's better if you don't have a husband or a boyfriend. That will make it easier on you."

"What do you mean?" Tara pressed on. "Do you have a husband?"

Amber looked like she might either cry or throw up. She was quiet for a long time. Then she finally said, "It's like this: if you want to stay here and be protected you just have to play by the rules. If I want to protect my boyfriend then I keep my mouth shut and do as I'm told. We're free to go, but we wouldn't last long out there on our own. He'd make sure of that."

"Who's your boyfriend? What do you need to protect him from?"

Amber searched Tara's eyes as if she couldn't believe she didn't understand. "From him. I cheated on him with my boyfriend. He's going to find out. He always finds out. And when he does...you've seen what he did to Dwight's face. Mark will get the same treatment."

Bile was rising in Tara's throat. She couldn't believe what Amber was telling her about Negan. She looked around at the women in this room. This was his harem. These women catered to his needs and desires in order to protect the men they loved. A light bulb flashed on inside her mind. This was it. This was the information they needed. This was how they could bring down Negan and the Saviors. She needed to talk to Carol.

She stood abruptly and asked loudly, "Is there a bathroom we can use?" She gave Carol a meaningful look. "It was a long ride here. We could both use a bathroom."

Sherry indicated that they would find a bathroom down the hall on the left. Tara was a little surprised to find that they were allowed to move about the factory freely. She supposed there were guards outside making sure they didn't leave, but in here it appeared they were allowed to go where they pleased inside. She grabbed Carol by the arm and they found their way to the restroom together.

Once inside Tara locked the door and turned to face Carol. "I think I've got it!"

"Got what?"

"Negan's weakness, his achilles heel."

"Shh," Carol hushed. "Keep your voice down. We don't know who's listening."

Tara went on in a whisper. "Those women, they all have men that they were with before they came here. But Negan keeps them separated. He keeps the men in line because he has control of their women and the women do whatever he says because they want to protect their men. Amber just told me that she cheated on Negan with her boyfriend. She actually used the word 'cheated.' And she's worried if he finds out he's going to mess up her boyfriend's face the same as he did to Dwight."

It all started clicking into place in Carol's mind. "Dwight seemed like a dog brought to heel since the moment he saw Sherry. The men probably all hate Negan or fear him. These men are heavily armed and there are clearly a lot of them. They could probably form an uprising against him if they weren't so worried about the safety of their women."

"Exactly! So how do we use that information to bring him down?"

"We don't."

Tara was taken aback. "What do you mean we don't?"

"I mean we are on an intel mission. We have information that will probably be useful. Now we have to talk our way out of here and take this information back to Rick."

"You want to just leave these women here to be Negan's wives? We have to do something!"

"Shh," Carol hushed her again. "There are two of us and we're unarmed. We can't solve this problem today. We need to get back to Alexandria and come back with our army."

The army, the war, it turned Tara's stomach. She couldn't leave these women here. She couldn't leave Amber. "I can't do that." Carol rolled her eyes as if Tara were a child throwing a temper tantrum. "I can't," she insisted. "Listen, if we come back with our army those women are going to get caught in the crossfire and you know it. This is not Amber's war. Some are going to die for this cause, but that doesn't make the cause hers. At the very least, we need to find a way to get her out. Then, let the army do what they will."

Carol could see the passion and the resolve in Tara's eyes. She wanted to fight her on this, to tell her she's was being childish and letting her emotions get the better of her. But something in Tara's ardour told her it would be useless. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "Alright. But you have to understand that getting ourselves out of here alive is our first priority. If we can bring Amber with us we will, but that's secondary."

Tara was about to insist that if they didn't bring Amber with them that she wasn't leaving, when her thoughts were interrupted by a loud wail. They opened the bathroom door and poked their heads out into the hallway. They saw Amber on her knees in the hallway just outside the sitting room with her face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. They didn't see him, but they could hear Negan's thundering voice echoing down the hallway as he yelled, "Get the iron ready!"


	24. Chapter 24

Tara and Carol waited for Negan's echoing voice to fade away. Then they cautiously approached Amber who was still kneeled on the floor, quaking with heavy sobs. Tara kneeled down beside her, trying to offer the poor girl a little comfort.

Carol walked past the pair of them back into the sitting room where she found the rest of the women looking very somber. Sherry had silent tears rolling down her cheeks. All of these Savior women knew exactly what was coming. Carol needed to know what to expect.

She approached Sherry. "What's going on? What is the iron for?"

Sherry gave her a disgusted look. "Haven't you figure it out yet? Someone broke a rule. He found out about it. I told you already, there are consequences."

"When?" Carol needed to know how fast this was going to happen. She was already predicting Tara's reaction and trying to figure out how to keep her from blowing their cover.

"As soon as he can gather everyone."

"Everyone? He's going to make all of you watch?" Carol was having a difficult time seeing how Sherry could defend him as a leader. As far as she could tell Negan was nothing more than a sadist.

"All of us? Don't count yourself out so quickly. I'm sure you two will be invited to the party." Sherry was clearly angry, probably mostly at the situation, but she intended to direct it toward Carol.

Carol decided to leave her be before it got any more confrontational. She turned her attention to Tara who had coaxed Amber back in from the hallway and was helping her find a seat. As the other women moved in trying to calm Amber down, Carol took the opportunity to pull Tara aside.

"We need to find a way out of here. I think this might be our best chance. Negan is going to get everyone together to watch this punishment ritual. While everyone is focused on that we should make a break for it."

"What? No!" Tara protested just as Carol had predicted. "We need to stop this. He's going to burn her boyfriend's face. We can't let him torture these people like this."

"This is not why we're here. It's not our community or our rules. We have a job to do. And right now that job is getting back to Alexandria with the knowledge we've gained. If you try to stop this you're going to get us both killed."

Tara was fuming at the injustice of it all. Her goal in joining Carol on this journey had been to find someone who didn't know they were on the wrong side of the fight. She had found Amber. This was exactly the person she had come here to protect. She couldn't just stand by and let her get hurt in this way. She couldn't leave her here.

She didn't get a chance to argue any further. One of Dwight's cronies leaned in through the doorway. "It's happening now. We've all got to go." He disappeared down the hall to gather the rest of the Saviors, leaving Amber in another fit of sobs.

All the occupants of the Salvation compound gathered in the yard outside the factory, just inside the front gates. As Carol joined the dismal crowd she observed the scene. There were probably close to fifty people, women somewhat separated from men. No one spoke to each other. Aside from some nervous fidgeting, the mob was still.

At the center of the semicircle a man was on his knees, hands at his sides, looking distraught. No one held him in his place, but it was clear he dared not move. This must be Mark. Amber was cradled in Sherry's arms nearby, silently weeping.

With the enthusiasm of someone who can't resist a grand entrance, Negan burst forth from the factory doors with a mile-wide grin on his face. Carol placed a hand on Tara's shoulder as a subtle reminder not to do anything rash.

Negan addressed his followers. "Friends! Welcome to the show." He surveyed his group, reading the emotions on everyone's faces. He zeroed in on Amber. "Sweetheart," he said with a gentle voice. He extended a hand, indicating for her to approach. With a little encouragement from Sherry, Amber slowly made her way to where Negan stood near Mark's kneeling form.

"Amber, honey, I want to make sure you appreciate the gravity of the situation here." Amber gave a small nod, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. "You were given a choice. You were all given a choice. No one is a prisoner here. Everyone is free to leave if they so choose. But you're all still here because you made the choice to stay. Those who stay must follow the rules. And what are rule without consequences?" He was pacing now, clearly enjoying this self-indulgent moment.

"I gave you protection, food, shelter. I gave you back your humanity. The roamers out there, they're monsters. They represent a distinct lack of humanity. Without rules, without order, without justice, we're no different from them. If there were no consequences for your actions you would be no different from the dead ones."

He stopped pacing and his eyes fell on Mark, hunched on the ground. "Consequences are an important part of society. They're a part of your humanity. Isn't that right, Mark?" Mark didn't move. "I said, isn't that right, Mark?"

Mark nodded, but couldn't bring himself to speak.

"Oh come on, Mark!" Negan sounded jovial. "You knew you were breaking a rule, didn't you? This didn't have to happen. None of this had to happen if you had just followed the rules. And what is it we say about rules?"

Mark mumbled something inaudible.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

Mark said more loudly, "The rules keep us alive."

Negan leaned down and bared his teeth in Mark's face. "That's right. Everybody now! What do we say about rules?"

The crowd at large chanted. "The rules keep us alive."

"Yes they do." Negan motioned for a man near the back of the crowd to come forward. He approached with a wooden chair and some rope. Negan waited as Mark was tied to the chair with no resistance. He had apparently accepted his fate.

"The rules do keep us alive. And now, my friend, it's time to live."

Negan pulled a thick leather glove onto his right hand. He approached an open-top metal barrel near the wall of the building. Heat waves radiated up from the hot coals inside. He reached into the barrel and produced a glowing red, Victorian era iron. All was silent in the yard except for Amber's soft sobs.

"It's nothing personal, you understand," Negan said to Mark. "It is what it is. This is for the greater good."

For the first time Mark looked up into Negan's face. Perhaps he was hoping to see some forgiveness there, some doubt, some possibility of a second chance. But there was nothing on Negan's face except the grin of a lunatic, mad with power. Negan waited until the moment that Mark looked away and locked eyes with Amber. That was the second he chose to strike. As Mark looked into the tear-soaked eyes of the woman he loved, Negan lunged toward him and smashed the hot iron into the left side of his face. Mark screamed out and then quickly fell unconscious, hanging limply from the chair to which he was tied.

The smell of singed flesh filled the the yard. Carol swallowed the acid that rose in her throat, trying to ignore the nausea she felt. As Negan pulled the iron away from Mark's ruined face, flesh clung to the metal like strings of melted cheese. He raised the red-hot instrument high above his head.

"Let this be a lesson to you all." His eyes locked on Amber even as he addressed the whole community. "Rules are life. Stay alive." He tossed the iron at the feet of the man who had tied Mark to the chair. "Clean that shit up." With that Negan sauntered back into his factory, leaving his followers frozen in place.

After the crowd disbursed and Mark was dragged off somewhere, still unconscious, Carol, Tara and Negan's wives returned to the sitting room. Amber's crying had finally stopped. She sat perfectly still and silent, looking numb. Sherry was trying to soothe her by stroking her hair and rocking her, almost like a small child. She had undoubtedly been through the same scenario when Dwight received his matching scar.

Suddenly Sherry jumped up. The anger inside her at this punishment for a simple rule was too much. "This isn't right. I'm going to talk to him."

"To Negan?" Carol asked, wondering how wise it was to confront that man.

"Look at her," Sherry said, gesturing to Amber. "She needs to see Mark. There's no rule against talking to each other. She needs to talk to him so that she doesn't go over the deep end. She's going to have a nervous breakdown."

Carol nodded to show she understood. Sherry stalked out of the room in search of Negan. Tara sat down in her place, trying to comfort Amber. Carol took a seat on Amber's other side. She still planned to get herself and Tara out of here as soon as possible. But she felt more sympathetic now to Tara's desire to bring Amber with them.

Tara asked Amber, "Why do you stay here? He claims you're free to go. Is it a lie?"

Amber looked into her eyes and for a long while it seemed as though she wouldn't respond. Perhaps she was too overcome with emotion to speak. Finally she said, "It's not a lie. We could go, but we'd never make it. He'd make sure of that. He would send us out into the world defenseless. Even if we survived, he would come for us eventually. He would kill us and find some way to make it all about justice. When Negan wants something, he gets it. If he can't have it then no one can."

Tara looked to Carol for approval. She needed to tell Amber that they wanted to get her and Mark out of the Sanctuary. Carol hesitated, but then gave the faintest nod. She rose from her seat to strike up a distracting conversation with the remaining women.

Tara whispered, "What if we could get you out? You and Mark could come with us back to Alexandria. We have weapons there. We could protect you. He would never be able to touch you again."

Amber shook her head. "You don't understand his reach. He has more power than you realize. It's safer to stay here. At least we're alive."

"But what kind of life is this? You can't be with the person you love. You live in fear."

"It's still better than being dead."

"Is it?" Tara truly wanted to know. She thought of Denise. She tried to picture herself in Amber's position, unable to be with the person she cared about most. Being forced to submit to the desires of a cruel dictator. Would she still feel it was better than being dead?

Amber contemplated Tara's question and finally said, "I don't know. I really don't know." The anguish in her voice tore Tara apart inside.

"Come with us," she urged. "We're getting out of here one way or another. If we can get you back to Alexandria you will be safe. Our people won't let anything happen to you." The look on Amber's face told Tara she was considering her offer. Tara pushed further. "Besides, Mark needs medical attention. We have doctors. They can help him heal."

Amber's desire to help Mark was strong. Still, she didn't believe it was possible. "How? How can you get us out of here?"

Tara didn't have a clear plan for that, but she had a feeling Carol was already working on something. "We will find a way. If you tell me you're in, we'll find a way. Just say you're in."

Sherry marched back into the room. "He's going to let you talk to Mark. I can take you there now."

Amber inhaled deeply and let out a long, shaky breath. She stood slowly and strode purposefully toward Sherry's side. Just before she and Sherry left the room she turned to Tara and silently mouthed the words, "I'm in." A single tear escaped her eye and then she was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

Tara breathed a sigh of relief. She needed Amber to be on board. She needed to save her from the war that none of these people knew was coming. Now she just had to figure out how to get out of this place. Carol came to sit by her side.

"She said they'll come with us," Tara imparted under her breath. "How are we going to get out?"

"Well they're certainly not going to let us walk out the front door with two of their people," Carol whispered. Tara wore a guilty expression. As much as she knew she had to get Amber out of here, this had clearly complicated their exit.

"It's okay," Carol consoled her. "I'm not sure we were ever going to be able to talk our way out of here anyway. It was probably always going to have to be an escape. It will definitely have to be at night. It would help if we could get one of their vehicles. If we can't then we'll have to walk until we find another car on the road. It took us an hour and a half to drive here. There's no way we can walk the whole way back before they notice we're gone. We'll need a decent head start because if they catch up to us before we reach Alexandria we're in trouble."

Tara felt better listening to Carol formulate a strategy. Carol was smart. She was a survivor. She would find a way out of this. Tara thought you could almost see the wheels in her head turning. She asked Carol, "Do you think he'll come for us right away?"

Carol shook her head. "I doubt it. He's a demented lunatic, but he's careful and calculating. Once he realizes what we've done he's going to take his time and figure out how to hit us where it hurts. Still, we need to get back as soon as possible. We need to give Rick enough time to plan our defense."

"Rick." Tara closed her eyes, imaging their return to Alexandria. "Rick is going to be pissed."

"Probably. But Rick's been pissed at me before and I've never gotten an iron to the face." The two women exchanged a solemn look, both appreciating how lucky they had been to fall in with the group they now called family.

It was almost nightfall before Amber and Sherry returned. Amber's eyes were red and puffy, but there was resolve on her face. She was gathering her strength for what came next. She offered to show Carol and Tara to their sleeping quarters.

Sherry tried to intervene. "I can take them. Why don't you rest?"

"I'll be okay," Amber reassured her. "It's better for me to stay busy anyway. Keep my mind off things."

Sherry was relieved to see her friend recovering from the grievous events of the day. She gave her a quick hug and Amber ushered Carol and Tara out the door. After winding their way through the halls they entered a small room with two bunks and a small lamp on an end table.

"This is where you're meant to sleep," Amber said as she shut the door behind them. She pressed her ear to the door to make sure she didn't hear anyone approaching then she sat on one of the beds, gesturing for the other two women to sit close by. "Mark is in too. He thinks we need to leave tonight."

"I agree," Carol stated. "The longer we stay here the harder it will be to get out. Is he okay to move?" She was concerned about his very fresh wound.

Amber nodded. "He doesn't have much choice. Plus one of his buddies was able to get him some pain medication. He'll be alright until it starts to wear off."

"We were thinking we could take one of the trucks." Tara was eager to get a firm plan together.

Amber shook her head. "It's better if we don't draw any more attention to the fact that we're gone. Mark was part of a crew that set up a roadblock to head off some roamers not long ago. They parked a bunch of cars about four miles out. The keys should still be in the glove box."

"What about guards?" Carol wanted to know. "What's the best way to get outside the fence line?"

"We'll be able to just walk right out the front gates." Tara and Carol looked at her in disbelief. "Negan's cocky," Amber assured them. "He feels his reputation precedes him. He doesn't imagine anyone would walk in here and attack him. He keeps one guard out front all night just in case there's some kind of threat. All we need to do is wait for him to need a bathroom break and we can walk right out of here."

Carol and Tara looked to one another. Amber made it sound too easy. Both were apprehensive. Both were cautious of trusting the information provided by this woman whom they had just met this morning. But their options were limited and their time was short. Tara questioned Carol with her eyes. Could this work? Could this be their ticket out of here? Carol shrugged, unsure but resigned. It was as good a plan as any.

A couple hours before daybreak Carol, Tara, and Amber crept through the halls of Salvation toward Mark's room. Just as Amber had predicted, there was no guard. Carol still had a firmly held belief that Negan was a tyrannical psychopath, but he did give his people some measure of freedom. Perhaps it was his ego at work. He didn't believe anyone would dare to cross him. Or maybe he hoped they would. He clearly enjoyed dishing out punishment.

Carol and Tara waited in the hall while Amber went into the tiny room and returned with Mark. His face was unbandaged and looked like a mangled, raw mess. He still smelled of singed flesh. But he was walking well under his own power and didn't appear to feel the pain too badly.

Amber led the group through the deserted hallways to a side door where they would be able to sneak around through the shadows and wait for the guard to take his leave. Just before she pushed the door open, Carol stopped her.

"Are you both sure about this? It's not too late to turn back."

Mark turned to Amber, wanting her to make the call. She nodded. "I'm positive. We need to get him to a doctor. And you're right, we can't keep living like this. This isn't living."

Carol examined the pair of them. Their hands were empty. "You're sure there's nothing you want to bring with you?"

Amber answered, "We don't have anything worth bringing. We can't get our hands on any weapons without drawing attention. Everything else doesn't seem worth the trouble." Carol respected Amber's practicality. She seemed truly committed to getting out of Negan's reach. There was nothing more to discuss. It was time to go.

The four of them pushed through the door. They slinked silently through the shadows around the edge of the factory, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. When they turned the corner to the front of the building they spotted the guard. Just as Amber had predicted, it was a lone man with a gun. He looked bored. The escapees crouched in the shadows and waited until they themselves also felt almost bored.

They had probably been huddled in the darkness, motionless for at least twenty minutes when the guard finally showed signs of restlessness. He approached the fenceline and peered out into the darkness, his rifle pointed to the ground. He scanned the surrounding area as far as he could see and, finding no threat, returned to his post near the factory door.

Also as Amber had predicted, he did indeed need a bathroom break. However, Carol realized she had assumed he would enter the building to use the facilities. In actuality he did not leave his post. He turned to face the barrel that had contained the hot coals which heated Negan's punitive iron. The guard unzipped his pants and began urinating into the barrel, possibly as a small act of defiance against Negan. Or maybe it was just convenient. Either way, Carol knew this was their only chance. They would have to be fast.

The four of them ran quickly and silently to the front gate. Amber swung it open just enough for each of them to pass through one by one then quietly shut it behind them. There were concrete highway barriers littered outside the gate. Using the barriers for cover the team crawled along until they were able to dive for the nearest shadow. Through the chainlink fence and the darkness they could just make out the image of the Savior securing his zipper and returning to his post. They waited a few minutes more, hearts pounding in their chests. Then they stealthily made their way through the shadows in the direction in which Mark had indicated they would find a vehicle to take them home.

As soon as they felt they were far enough away from the Sanctuary building they ventured out of the shadows and onto the main road. Walkers now posed a more immediate threat than the men they had just evaded. There was enough moonlight to illuminate the main road and give them a little warning if any walkers were in the area. As they moved away from the industrial setting Carol noticed a crumbling building on which someone had scrawled a spray painted message. It was so faded it was difficult to tell if the artist had written these words before or after the outbreak. The message was written in large red and black letters.

 _When the love of power_

 _Exceeds the power of love_

 _Humanity is lost_

Carol filed that sentiment away in the vault of her mind and picked up a large stick. Tara managed to find a heavy rock. These would have to serve as their weapons if they ran into any unwanted company. Amber didn't burden herself with a weapon as she helped Mark make his way down the road.

They walked for over an hour before they reached the line of vehicles that Mark had promised. The sun would be up soon. The Eastern sky was starting to get lighter. Through the dim twilight the four of them spotted several roaming figures milling around the cars.

"Walkers," Tara whispered.

"What should we do?" Amber looked nervous. Carol briefly wondered if Amber and Mark had been out on their own for long before getting wrapped up with Negan. She silently kicked herself for not asking Rick's usual three interview questions. There was a reason they asked those questions before accepting someone new into the group. You had to know who was standing by your side when things got sketchy.

"You two wait here." Carol pointed to Mark and Amber. "We'll clear them out."

Tara gave Carol a quick nod of compliance and they quietly approached the walkers. There were three of them. None of the three seemed to be aware of the fresh meat nearby just yet. Carol quietly ran up on one from behind, a tall and skeletal man, and knocked it hard in the back of the head with her stick. It fell to the ground, but pushed up quickly, trying to stand and come after her. Using her stick as a spear, she jammed it through the base of its skull. The stick broke in the process, but it was enough to bring the monster to its end.

Tara took a similar approach, striking a long-haired female walker from behind with her rock. The body fell to the floor and didn't move. She bludgeoned it a few more times just to be sure.

The third walker had taken notice of the commotion and was staggering toward the two women. This one was once a large brute of a man. He probably hadn't been dead long. He still looked almost human. Carol ran toward it and shoved the remainder of her stick into its eye socket, but it wasn't enough. The stick splintered away and the beast continued toward them. Tara threw her rock as hard as she could manage. It hit the walker in the neck and knocked it to the ground. Carol seized the moment and stomped its skull hard with her boot. Tara rushed to her side and also gave the corpse several good stomps until all movement ceased.

For a moment all was quiet.

Suddenly Amber let out a tiny yelp. Carol and Tara whipped around expecting to see another walker approaching her. Instead what they saw was a hand clamped over her mouth and a pistol pointed over her shoulder directly at the two of them. A Savior man, one of the men from Dwight's crew, stood behind her holding her hostage. Her eyes were wide with fear and silent tears streamed freely down her face. Mark kneeled on the ground in front of her, his hands raised in submission.

"No!" Tara yelled and took a few rushed steps toward Amber. She was stopped short as someone behind her grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. A hand reached around her face and held the cold blade of a knife against her throat.

Her captor spoke to the man holding Amber. "Get them back! Take them back now and leave these two to me." There was no mistaking that voice. The man holding her captive was Dwight.

Dwight's cohort protested a little. "But Negan's going to want to deal with them."

Dwight shot back, "I said leave them to me."

The man holding Amber ordered Mark to stand and with his gun held to Amber's head, led them both back the way they had come from. Back toward Sanctuary. Back toward Negan. Who knew what punishment awaited them this time.

Tara's guilt flooded her like a dam breaking. All she had wanted to do was help this woman and the man she loved. Now she had made everything so much worse. She watched as they were forced back to whatever fate had in store for them.

Dwight watched them go, making sure they were well down the road in order to deal with the two Alexandrians the way he felt was appropriate. He turned to wield his knife in Carol's direction, to ask her if she really thought she could get away with this. He wanted to show her how foolish she had been. He planned to tell her that everyone she loved would suffer for the mistake she had made. But he hesitated just a second too long.

As he turned to where Carol had been standing a moment ago he saw nothing but darkness. She wasn't there. As he turned further to see where she had gone he saw something reflecting gold in the moonlight. It was much too close to his own face for him to make out what it was. But he didn't have long to guess because all at once Carol's garrote was wrapped around his neck, Scully's crucifix glinting in the twilight.

Tara yelled out, "Carol!" She needed to know what to do.

"Start the car." Carol hissed, using all her strength to pull the thin wire as tightly as she could around Dwight's neck.

Tara lunged for the car at the front of the line and ripped open the driver side door. She reached into the glove box and produced a key, just as Amber had told them. As she struggled to get the key in the ignition she glanced over to Carol and Dwight. She had her knee pressed into his back for leverage. He was getting weaker, but still struggling.

As the engine turned over once but failed to start, Carol heard Daryl's voice in her head. _Choke the life right out of him_. The engine turned over a second time and still didn't catch. Carol saw Sherry's face, the longing in her eyes when she looked at Dwight. The engine turned over a third time and this time it roared to life. In that instant Dwight finally stopped struggling. He went limp and fell backwards on top of her.

Tara was quickly by her side and rolled Dwight off of her. She hauled Carol up and helped her over to the passenger side door. As Tara climbed in behind the wheel Carol had finally caught her breath.

"We can't go back for them. You know that, right?"

Tara felt a wrenching in her stomach that she couldn't ignore. "I know." Carol was right. There was no way they could help Amber now. All they could do was save themselves.

As she put the car in gear she looked in the rearview mirror and saw Dwight's motionless form lying prone in the street.

"Is he dead?" Tara asked.

Carol held up her small but effective weapon. The little gold cross was still attached. She held it to her chest and closed her eyes against the daylight that was breaking over the horizon. "I sure as hell hope so."


	26. Chapter 26

As the sun peeked over the horizon Mulder quietly snuck back into his house, trying not to wake Scully. His efforts were in vain. He found her sitting at the table with papers spread out in front of her looking every bit the picture of the manic researcher. Usually that was his role. She appeared to have been up all night. She looked upon him with bloodshot eyes.

"Mulder, do you have my list?"

"Well good morning to you too." Mulder wasn't used to this side of Scully. She looked completely absorbed in whatever she was working on. He found the whole scene a little worrisome.

"Good morning." Scully closed her eyes and took a deep breath, becoming aware of the fact that she must look like a complete mess. "My list, I need to prioritize it for you."

Mulder did happen to still have her list with him. He pulled it out of his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to her. Scully produced a pen and began crossing items off the list one by one. When she was done she handed the list back to him with only three items remaining: chloroform, carbolic acid, and a microscope.

"What about all the other items? What about the centrifuge?"

"This is the bare minimum I need to extract my _arcB_ genome and isolate it for injecting into the rest of the group. I'm worried it would take too long to find everything else and this is a lot more urgent than we realized." She was returning to her senses and looking less manic. Talking things out with Mulder always kept her grounded.

"Why is this so urgent? If we go on to scout for the ARV we might not be back for a day or two."

"Mulder, I know you really want to go see the ship for yourself, but I'm telling you there's no time. I found something I hadn't realized before. Getting _arcB_ into every member of this community has to be our number one priority."

Mulder tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. In spite of Rick and Daryl's warnings that they needed to abandon the search for the ARV as soon as all Scully's items were found, he had been spinning several different ideas in his mind to convince Daryl to keep going. He needed the spacecraft to be there. He had to know there was an escape. Scully was probably the only person in the world who could stop him from pursuing that ship today. But he hadn't expect that she would. She wanted to believe there was a way out of all this as badly as he did.

Scully noticed the dismay in his expression. "I was thinking last night about the alien planet and the government's plan to colonize there. I started wondering why they gave themselves the _arcA_ and _arcB_ pairing. If the plan was to be immune to the aluminum phosphide gas, why not just leave themselves free of any alien DNA at all?"

Mulder thought he knew what she was thinking, but he had to stop himself from jumping ahead of her train of thought. "So you think there was more to it than just immunity? What's your theory?"

"Originally we were thinking that we wanted to give everyone the _arcB_ genome just so that they wouldn't turn when they eventually died. It was more of a peace of mind thing than anything else. But I think it's more important than that. I think the gene pairing is necessary to survive in the atmosphere of this planet. I started looking into the information we collected about previous colonization attempts. As far as I can tell almost everyone in the colonization team had the _arcA_ - _arcB_ pairing. There is mention of someone who was essentially a stowaway on one of these missions. Someone wanted to bring their child to the new colony, but it was unauthorized. The parent snuck his son onto the ship anyway and child died within hours of arriving on the planet. I think it's because he didn't have the _arcB_ genome. That means if we can get to the ARV and it's still there and we can actually navigate this thing to the foreign planet, everyone we're trying to save will still die if we don't give them this genome."

Mulder looked over her shoulder at all the documents she had spread out on the table. It wasn't that he didn't believe her. He just wanted to believe there was some way he could do both. Mulder wanted to go find the alien replica vehicle immediately. He felt drawn to it. But he knew the safety of the people who had taken them in was the most important thing. He would do as Scully asked. He would find a way to get her the things she needed and he would delay the search for the ARV.

"Okay." He smiled at her with tired eyes. "Okay, we'll leave within the hour and we'll come back as soon as we find these three things."

"Thank you." Relief at sharing this information was evident on her face. "I'm going to see if I can recruit Denise to help me once you get back. We're going to have to identify and extract the alien DNA by sight. If she can help me we can get it done twice as fast. If you can find two microscopes that would be even better." Scully turned and began collecting the sea of papers spread out before her.

As Mulder turned to head upstairs Scully asked him, "Where were you all night?"

Mulder froze in his tracks. He had been hoping to avoid that conversation. "I was next door going over the plan and the route."

"With Daryl?" She didn't look up from her papers or turn around to face him. But he could see the curve of her cheek. She was smiling, possibly teasing him.

"Yes," was his only answer. It wasn't like him to keep anything from Scully. She wouldn't judge him. But whatever this was between himself and Daryl just felt so fragile. He wanted to enjoy it for what it was. Whatever it was. He felt like talking about it outloud with Scully would somehow break the magic.

So instead of explaining himself to her he headed upstairs and left her to her paperwork. He didn't tell her that he and Daryl were also up all night. He didn't tell her how they kissed so long his lips felt bruised. He didn't tell her how thrilling it felt to get someone so stubborn to shed his inhibitions. And his clothes. He didn't tell her any of that. He just went upstairs to take a shower before heading out on his next mission, being careful not to wash himself too well. He wanted to hang on to the smell of Daryl for just a little longer.

Daryl, meanwhile, left the house in search of Aaron. He felt agitated, unsettled, confused. He couldn't really wrap his mind around what had happened last night. He needed to talk to someone he could trust. He wanted to resolve whatever it was he was feeling before he embarked on his journey today.

He found Aaron at the armory. "Hey there," Aaron greeted him. "I hear you're going out looking for some specialty items."

"Yeah, we're leaving pretty soon." Daryl wasn't sure how to approach the subject. He glanced around nervously, hoping no one else was within earshot.

Aaron noticed his antsiness. "You okay, man? You look a little worked up."

"I'm fine. It's just," Daryl hesitated. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Aaron was a little taken aback. He had spent a lot of time on the road with Daryl while they searched for new potential Alexandrians. One thing he had learned was that Daryl didn't talk about anything personal very often. But he was happy to help. "Sure, you can ask me anything."

"How did you know that you were, you know…" He trailed off.

"How did I know I was what?" Aaron prodded.

"How did you know you were gay?"

Aaron wasn't sure what he thought Daryl was getting at, but that definitely wasn't it. He wasn't sure where this line of questioning was coming from. But it certainly wasn't something that he was afraid to discuss. "I guess I figured it out when most people do. I was a teenager, going through puberty with raging hormones. Eventually I just figured it out."

Daryl paced like a caged animal. That wasn't the answer he was looking for. But he probably hadn't really asked the right question. "Didn't you ever wonder if it was just a phase or a one time thing? Did you question if that's who you really were?"

Aaron thought about it. "I think I wondered that for a while. It took me a few years to come out to my family if that's what you mean. But as far as whether or not that's who I really am...I don't know. I don't think that determines who I am as a person any more than the color of my hair or how tall I am. It's just one attribute about me. It doesn't define who I am."

He could tell he wasn't making Daryl feel any better and he was pretty sure he knew what his questions were leading to. He countered with a question of his own. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," Daryl replied.

"When did you figure out you weren't gay?"

For a second Daryl looked like he might blow off the question, but then he actually put some thought into it. "I guess I just knew. Or I assumed. I don't know. I didn't spend much of my teenage years thinking about that kind of stuff."

"And why do you think that is?"

"Why didn't I think about that stuff?"

"Yeah, was it because you just assumed you were straight? Or was it because your family assumed you were straight?"

Daryl looked at the floor. He truly didn't know the answer to that question.

Aaron went on. "Look, I know I never met your brother, Merle, and I'm not one to speak ill of the dead. But I don't think he was the most accepting person. My impression of him is that he could be a little closed minded. He sounds like the type of brother who might have tried to beat it out of you if you didn't meet his definition of a man."

Hearing Merle's name felt like a punch in the stomach. It's true, his brother wouldn't understand the feelings Daryl was now experiencing. Merle would have judged him. He wasn't accepting of anyone who he felt was different from him. Before the outbreak he steered clear of anyone who wasn't a redneck, macho man like him. He had always tried to mold Daryl in his own image. He really changed in the end. Merle became a different kind of person before he died. Still, Daryl had a lifelong habit of trying to impress his big brother and trying to avoid his abuse and torment. No matter what type of person Merle was, he was still family.

Aaron could see the resistance Daryl still had to this idea. "Listen, if you had grown up in a different place with a different family, who knows what your teenage years might have been like. But the fact is you didn't. You grew up with Merle. Like I said, I never met him, but I've heard a lot about him. He did care about you. He would want you to be happy. If you can find any tiny sliver of happiness in this world, hang onto it for all you're worth. My advice to you, whatever you're wondering about yourself right now, don't over think it. Nothing is black and white, especially not in the new world. There's no reason you have to label yourself as anything. You're Daryl Dixon. Whatever else that means is up to you."

Daryl took a minute to absorb that. He still felt unsettled, but he was much less agitated. Aaron was right. There was no reason he had to label himself in any way. He knew he wasn't given a lot of freedom to explore himself growing up, but that was part of what made him who he was. He didn't have to fight against what he believed himself to be. He just needed to accept what he was feeling. But acceptance wasn't quite within his reach.

"Thanks, man." He was truly appreciative of Aaron's thoughts. He wasn't going to feel any better about any of it right now. But he didn't have to figure all of it out right this minute. Aaron had made him realize he could give himself permission to not worry about this right now. He had more pressing matters on his mind. "I've got to get ready to go."

Aaron gave him a sympathetic look. "Be safe out there. We all need you back in one piece."

Daryl gave Aaron a half smile and an appreciative pat on the shoulder. Then he headed out of the armory to go prepare for his journey.


	27. Chapter 27

The medical lab was a small, standalone building not far from a group of doctor's offices. It was the type of place where lab technicians used to draw blood and analyze patient samples. Daryl had been there once before. He had gone through this building and all the nearby offices in search of medicine or anything else that could help his people. The last time he was here he had cleared the building of a handful of walkers and made off with a meager collection of supplies. But he hadn't been looking for the type of things Scully needed.

Daryl peered through the windows, trying to assess what dangers may await him inside. Mulder, meanwhile, made a loop around the building to look for any external threats. They had decided to make the ride out to the lab on Daryl's bike. It was easier to maneuver through back roads and shortcuts than a car and they didn't need much cargo space for the supplies they were looking to acquire. It also had the added advantage of limiting conversation. Daryl had no interest in talking about the previous night. Not just yet anyway.

Daryl couldn't see any sign of movement inside. Mulder made his way around the building and looped back around to approach Daryl near the front door.

"See anything?" he asked Mulder.

"All is quiet on the western front."

"Alright, I'm going in. You wait out here and keep an eye out. You got my back?"

Mulder raised his gun and gave a quick nod. He had felt a strong sense of trust and acceptance upon being offered a weapon from the armory. He was half expecting to be handed his own puny knife as he had been for the trip to D.C. He waited outside while Daryl opened the door, crossbow raised, and entered the darkness of the lab.

As soon as Daryl entered he was hit in the face with a variety of smells. He could smell chemicals and something similar to formaldehyde. He smelled dust and mold. But most of all he smelled death. He listened closely while he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. After a moment he heard a sound, the familiar growl of a walker. Just as he could smell death, these creatures could smell life. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. A dead girl lay on the floor with a shelf pinning her down. Most likely she had climbed the shelf to retrieve some precious medicine and it had toppled on her. She looked to be only a teenager. She was no true threat to him, as she couldn't move from her spot on the floor. But he wanted to put her out of her misery. As she clawed the air and snarled away, he leaned in and put a knife through her temple. She fell silent and limp.

Daryl listened again and, hearing nothing, proceeded further into the facility. The front of the building consisted of a waiting room, a check-in desk, and a series of patient rooms. These were all equipped for collecting blood samples and the like. He guessed that the actual analysis of the samples would be somewhere near the back of the building. That's where he thought he'd have his best chance of finding the items on Scully's list. He passed the patient rooms with caution, checking each one for any signs of movement. They were all empty. The further into the building he ventured, the darker it became. His eyes were starting to adjust, but he tried to walk silently so that he could hear any danger approaching.

He came upon a door that was labeled with the words "sterile zone". This was his best hope. There was no window to see what was inside the room. He swung the door open quickly and scanned the room with his weapon raised. There was a body crumpled on the floor in the corner. It didn't move. Perhaps this person was truly dead, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Daryl took a few steps forward to make sure he could get a head shot. As he did the body raised up off the floor. It moved almost as if it were a marionette, being pulled up by strings. It looked lethargic, like it had been dead a long time and denied the flesh that these monsters considered food. He took aim and rocketed his bolt right through it's eye. It fell in a heap on the floor, much the way he had found it.

There appeared to be no other threats in the room. He shut the door so that nothing could sneak up on him while he searched for the necessary items. One thing on Scully's list he spotted immediately. She need a microscope. There were two of them on a table set up against the far wall. He scooped them both up and put them in his backpack. They were heavy, but the journey back to Alexandria was a short one.

He looked around the room. There were glass doored cabinets full of all sorts of vials and bottles of unfamiliar fluids. Daryl produced Scully's list from his back pocket. He'd have to read the labels carefully. He didn't want to return with the wrong thing. After what felt like an eternity of reading tiny print on labels in the near darkness he finally found what he was looking for. It was a large bottle with a biohazard label on it that claimed it could cause chemical burns. Below that it read "C6H5OH-CHCI3 Phenol-Chloroform". It was in a cabinet next to what Daryl assumed was a centrifuge. Scully had crossed that item off her list because she said it wasn't a necessity. But he figured it couldn't hurt to bring it. The microscopes and the bottle of phenol-chloroform would already take up all the room in his bag. He'd have to put the centrifuge in Mulder's pack.

As if thinking Mulder's name had brought him back to the real world, he suddenly heard a loud pop. It sounded like a single gunshot. Daryl shoved the bottle in his pack and tucked the centrifuge under his arm. As he made his way back to the front of the building his mind was racing. Had Mulder just taken down a walker? He would have known not to fire his gun unless it was absolutely necessary. The sound would just draw more attention. Could it have been some kind of human threat he was defending himself against? An icy feeling crept into his guts as he considered the thought that Mulder might not have been the one to fire the shot.

As he approached the still open front door he saw a spatter of red on the pavement outside. In one fluid motion he dropped his pack and the centrifuge and held his crossbow at eye level. He spun himself into the doorway and locked his sights on two strange men standing over Mulder who lay bleeding on the asphalt. There was a large gash in his forehead and what appeared to be a gunshot wound in his arm. He was breathing, but he wasn't moving.

Daryl assessed the enemies before him. One held a crowbar, the other held Mulder's gun. Daryl was doing quick calculations in his head. If he fired his crossbow at the one with the gun, how quickly could he reload before the guy with the crowbar attacked him? Or would he attack Mulder instead? There was a truck now parked next to his motorcycle. What other weapons did they have at their disposal? Before he could decide on a course of action, the man with the crowbar spoke.

"Sorry about your friend here. But he wasn't being very cooperative."

So some kind of negotiation had been going on while Daryl was inside. "What do you want?"

"We want that there bike. He wasn't willing to give it up. Now we want to know if you're going to make the same mistake he did."

Daryl continued to level his crossbow at the man with the gun. "What do you want with the bike?"

The crowbar man smiled, revealing crooked, yellow teeth. "Well the group we're with used to have a lot of bikes until someone decided to blow them all up along with a lot of our friends. Let's just say we're trying to rebuild our fleet."

These were Negan's men. Daryl knew exactly the bikes he was talking about because he had been the one to blow them up when Negan's men confronted him on the road. He stood frozen, refusing to allow these men to guess that he was the one who had killed their friends.

Mister Crowbar raised his hands as if to surrender. "Look, I'm a reasonable man. I'm happy to let you both go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. But we're taking that bike one way or another. Whether or not someone has to die here today, well that's up to you."

"How do I know that's true? How do I know you're not going to kill us both anyway? You're stranding us out here like sitting ducks."

The crowbar man laughed. "Son if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."

Daryl desperately wanted to shoot this man, but being outnumbered put him at a disadvantage. He was left with little choice but to agree to their demand. "Fine, take the bike."

"Drop your weapon and hand over the key."

Daryl held his grip firmly on his crossbow. "You didn't say anything about my weapon."

Crowbar laughed again. "What am I gonna do, turn around and let you shoot me in the back? Come on, just drop the weapon and hand over the key."

Rage was boiling up inside Daryl. He knew it would be stupid to try to take on both these armed men by himself, but he desperately wanted to. The only thing bringing him back to his senses was the sight of Mulder's blood pooling on the pavement in the corner of his eye. He gave in.

"Fine," he said, laying the crossbow on the ground. He fished in his pocket for the key to the motorcycle and threw it to the man with the gun.

The man with the crowbar grinned, clearly enjoying his victory. "Pleasure doing business with you." He scooped up the crossbow of the ground, slung it over his shoulder, and both men slowly backed away. The man with the gun got back in the truck they had arrived in, keeping Mulder's gun trained on Daryl the whole time. The man with the crowbar mounted the bike and fired up the engine. He yelled over the rumble of the bike, "Smart choice, son. Again, sorry about your friend." He flashed one more yellow-toothed smile and then both vehicles drove away.

As soon as they were out of sight Daryl rushed to Mulder's side. He was breathing, but still out cold. Daryl forced his eyelids open. His eyes were dilated and bloodshot. Daryl pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to assess the gunshot wound. It looked like just a flesh wound, but it was bleeding badly. Daryl pulled a bandana out of his pocket to use as a tourniquet. It seemed to slow the flow of blood. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He grabbed his bag from just inside the lab door and stuffed the centrifuge in Mulder's pack. He had to make sure this journey wasn't in vain. He removed his knife from the pack and tucked it in his belt. It was now their only weapon. He then hoisted Mulder's unconscious body up off the asphalt and over his shoulder. He had no choice. He would have to walk from here.

Daryl had made it about a quarter of the way back to Alexandria on foot when he heard a vehicle approaching from behind. He had abandoned the back roads in favor of the more direct route in order to save time, even though that meant being more exposed. When he heard the car's engine he wasn't sure what to do. He could hide and hope that whoever was in the vehicle didn't spot him. He could try to flag the car down and hope that whoever was driving it was friendly. That seemed like a long shot. Or he could get the car to stop and try to carjack whatever poor soul was inside. He wasn't thinking fast enough. His mind was exhausted with all that had happened that day and the heavy load he was carrying.

He had just about decided that hiding was his best option when he realized it was too late. The car was coming around the last bend and would have surely spotted him by now. He gently lay Mulder's body down in the grass on the side of the road and withdrew his knife as the car slowed and came to a stop beside him. His options now were to hope for someone who would help him or to take the vehicle by force. As he weighed those choices in his mind he heard a familiar voice.

"Daryl?"

He whipped around with his knife still gripped tightly in his fist and found himself staring into Carol's face. He could have cried he was so grateful. He dropped to his knees in exhaustion and the knife clattered against the pavement.

Carol jumped out of the car. "Daryl, what happened?" She wrapped her arms around him and he hugged her back, almost unable to believe she was really here.

"It's Mulder. I think he's dying," he said with his face buried in her shoulder.

Tara made her way around from the driver's side and approached Mulder laying in the grass. She pressed her ear to his chest and listened to his heart beat. "We've got to get him back to Alexandria quickly. Denise will know what to do."

Carol, Tara, and Daryl gingerly lifted Mulder and carried him to the back seat of the car. Daryl climbed in with him and Tara and Carol sat up front. They continued down the road toward Alexandria as fast as Tara dared. When Daryl had finally caught his breath he asked Carol, "What happened with Negan? I didn't think you'd get out so soon?"

Carol tried to steal a glance at him through the sideview mirror. She could tell he'd already been through a lot that day. She didn't want to tell him how badly her mission had ended. She gave him as little information as she thought he'd let her get away with. "We found out what we needed to know and we got out."

Daryl knew her well enough to be able to tell there was more to the story, but he was too exhausted to push her any further. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength.

When the group returned to Alexandria Scully was in the infirmary with Denise going over the _arcB_ extraction method. She had drawn some simple diagrams of normal human DNA which Denise was familiar with. "So we're going to have to identify the alien genomes by sight. Most of what we're going to see will look like this." She spun one of the drawings around so Denise could see. "Those will be normal strands of human DNA."

"So what does the alien DNA look like?" Denise was anxious to help with Scully's cause. She wanted to be as useful to her community as she could. She also wanted to take her mind off Tara's absence which had been eating away at her.

Scully picked up a pencil and flipped the paper over to the blank side. "It will actually be pretty easy to spot."

As Scully drew her a picture of what to look for, Denise noticed one thing immediately. "It's a left handed helix." Most human DNA was right handed, which describes the direction the double helix pattern turns. Apparently alien DNA turned the opposite direction.

Scully was impressed that Denise had picked up on that so quickly. "Not only that," she added another curving line to her drawing. "It's a triple helix. It should stick out like a sore thumb."

Denise smiled at Scully, brimming with confidence. "We can do this."

As she spoke those words they heard a car screech to a stop out front. It was unusual for anyone to drive a car through Alexandria. Most vehicles were left at the gate. As they stood to investigate what was going on the infirmary door burst open. Carol and Tara rushed in. Tara immediately ran to Denise and embraced her, finally letting go of all the emotions that had built up in the last 24 hours. "You were right," she whispered. "I never should have gone. I made everything so much worse."

Denise was in shock at the sudden arrival of her girlfriend and at the guilt she seemed to be expressing. "That can't be true. I'm sure you didn't make anything worse."

Tara let the tears spill forth. "You have no idea."

Carol, meanwhile had rushed to Scully's side and grabbed her by the shoulders. In the calmest voice she could manage she said, "You need to prepare yourself for this. It's Mulder, he's hurt."

Scully's eyes widened and she felt like she was going to be sick. "Mulder? What happened?"

She looked over Carol's shoulder to the doorway where Daryl stood, cradling Mulder in his arms. He stepped in and placed the limp body of her partner and best friend gently on the first available exam table. "He's been shot and I think he has a concussion. You have to fix him. You have to."

He stepped back as Scully and Denise both went into trauma mode, pulling on gloves and prepping their patient for whatever might be necessary. Daryl took a seat in the corner and Carol came to kneel beside him. "This is my fault," he said, burying his face in his hands. "He said he had my back, but I didn't have his. I wasn't there when he needed help."

"Honey," Carol said, grabbing his hands and forcing him to look into her eyes. "This is not your fault. You were doing what you had to do for the greater good of this community. We all have jobs to do. That was yours. There are bad people in this world and they can't be avoided. He did what he could to protect you because that was his job to do."

"They were Negan's men. Two of them. All they had was a crowbar. If I had been there beside him."

Carol cut him off. "It probably wouldn't have made a difference. Negan's men seem to get what they want regardless." In her mind she pictured Amber and Mark being marched away into the darkness. "They get what they want and I'm afraid we're next on their list."


	28. Chapter 28

Carol and Daryl stepped out onto the porch of the infirmary. Daryl needed to get away from the emergency room scene within. Carol needed to find Rick and tell him what had happened back at Negan's headquarters. She didn't need to look far.

Rick rushed up to greet her with relief written all over his face. "I just heard you were back. Is everything okay?" He eyed the blood that was smeared on her jacket.

Carol sunk down onto the porch steps. She was thankful to have extricated herself and Tara from Negan's clutches. She was grateful to have been able to help Daryl and Mulder. She knew the next thing to do was to warn Rick of the danger that might be coming sooner than expected. But she was exhausted at the thought of reliving the events of the previous day and night. "I'm okay. This isn't my blood," she said, noticing his alarm at her appearance. "Tara's having a rough time, but she's going to be okay too."

"Tell me what happened. Did you find out anything we can use?" Rick took a seat on the step beside her while Daryl leaned on the porch railing with his head in his hands.

Carol drew in a long slow breath. "I met Negan. He's exactly the monster I was afraid he would be." She paused, not quite knowing where to begin.

"How many people does he have? What kind of weapons?" Rick was anxious for information.

"I saw at least 50 people, mostly men. They have guns, but it's hard to say how many. It seems like only the guards and the people leaving the grounds carry them. Even Negan didn't have a gun on him when I saw him."

"He walks around unarmed?" Rick thought that information seemed useful. Maybe they could plan some sort of sneak attack.

"He was armed, but not with a gun. His weapon of choice seems to be a baseball bat. He has it all wrapped up in barbed wire." Carol swallowed hard against the memory of holding the brutal weapon in her hands. "It looks well used."

"What about a weak spot? Did you find anything we can use against them?"

Carol closed her eyes picturing the scene with Mark and the iron in her head. "It's him. He's the weak spot. He's the only thing holding them together. He rules by fear. He has some set of rules and the punishment for breaking a rule is...harsh, to say the least."

Rick wasn't sure how to use this information. There had to be more. "So what are you saying, we just need to take out Negan? Do you mean without him they fall apart?"

Carol shook her head. That wasn't quite what she meant. "I think his own men would turn on him if they didn't fear him so much. If they saw he could be controlled. If they could see he's not God. He's taken all their women, Rick."

"What do you mean 'taken'?"

"He's taken them as his wives. He's got a whole harem of wives that used to be wives and girlfriends of other men in his crew. He controls the men because he has their women. And he controls the women by punishing their men if they step out of line." Carol knew she was coming to the part of the story she really didn't want to tell Rick, but she had to.

Rick was clearly disgusted by this thought. "Are they all couples? Aren't there men in his group that didn't have women?"

Carol nodded. "They're on some kind of point system or something. Either way, he's still the one making all the rules. They follow the rules because he keeps them alive and because the punishment isn't worth the crime. He tells them they're free to go, but they're not. Not really. He would come after them if they tried to leave. He just wants them to have the illusion of freedom. I think everyone there hates him, but they're all so damn scared of him they don't do anything about it. The ones who don't hate him might be brainwashed."

Rick searched his mind for anything resembling a plan. He needed a course of action to take against this man. "What if we got their women out? Took away his control?"

Carol rubbed her palms into her eyes in exhaustion. "Well, we sort of tried that. There was a couple there that wanted to get out. They helped us escape and we were going to bring them with us. But Dwight caught us. Him and one of his buddies found us and took the couple back to Negan. We barely escaped. I think I might have killed Dwight." She cautiously searched his face, waiting for a reaction. This was what she was afraid to tell him, that she had gone over there and stirred up more trouble than they had bargained for.

Rick was silent for a moment. He raked his fingers through his hair. His mouth contorted in what looked like fury and frustration. Carol wasn't sure if he was angry at Negan or her or the position they were now in. Maybe all three. Finally he spoke, rage evident in his voice. "They'll be coming for us. You tried to take his people. You might have killed one of his men. Yeah, they'll be coming for us. We're right back where we started. The war is coming to our gates and all we can do is try to defend ourselves."

"Or we could leave."

Carol and Rick both turned to look at Daryl who was still leaning on the porch railing with his head down. "Leave?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, leave." Daryl stood up straight and looked Rick in the eye. "Me and Mulder got jumped by a couple of Negan's men on that supply run. They didn't know we were from Alexandria. They probably don't even know anything about Dwight being dead yet. They just jumped us because they could. They took my bike and my crossbow and they damn near killed Mulder. These guys are everywhere and they'll never stop coming for us. We go up against them and we're going to lose people. Even if we can take out Negan and all his men, we're just going to be sitting around waiting for the next asshole who wants something we have. It's like Mulder said, you can never escape the human threat. So let's not even give Negan the satisfaction. Let's go find the damn flying saucer and blow this joint."

"We can't do that just yet." All three people on the porch turned to face Scully who stood in the doorway to the infirmary. She was wearing a lot of Mulder's blood and had a sorrowful look in her eyes.

"Is he alive?" Daryl was desperate to know if Mulder was okay.

Scully nodded. "He's alive." She looked as though she might break down in tears.

Carol stood and approached Scully. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the garrote Daryl had given her with Scully's cross pendant still attached. She slid the small gold cross off the wire and pressed it into Scully's palm. Carol whispered, "Thank you."

Scully examined the pendant in her hand, remembering everything it meant to her, everything it represented. Then she wrapped her fingers tightly around it. "No, thank you," she said to Carol. "I'm glad you made it back safely." She took a deep breath, gathering her strength. "We got the bullet out and stitched him up. He didn't actually lose that much blood. You're tourniquet did its job." She took a step toward Daryl and put her hand on his arm. "Thank you for getting him back here so quickly. It probably saved his life."

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. "What about his head wound? I think they hit him with a crowbar."

"He's conscious now and he seems to remember everything up to the point that they hit him. He probably does have a concussion, but nothing too serious. We'll keep an eye on him." Daryl looked past Scully into the infirmary wanting to talk to Mulder now that he was awake. "Listen," Scully continued, drawing Daryl's attention back to the matter at hand. "We can't evacuate to the ARV. Not just yet."

Rick had started to latch onto Daryl's idea of getting out while the getting was good. "Why can't we go now?"

"It's the _arcB_ DNA. That has to happen before we leave. If we go to the alien planet and you don't all have that DNA you won't be able to survive the atmosphere. This is not something we can do on the road. It's a delicate process and it has to happen here before we leave."

"We got all the stuff you needed," Daryl announced. "It's all still in the car. We even got that centrifuge thing you wanted." He felt a small measure of triumph. At least some good had come out of this excursion.

Scully looked relieved as well. She smiled at the small win.

"How long will that take?" Carol wanted to know. She wasn't eager for a war with Negan either. She felt bad for the people caught in his web, but if they went to war with Negan most of those people would die too. There was no realistic way to save them. It was better to run if they had half a chance.

"If Denise and I work through the night we could probably have enough for everyone by morning."

Rick turned to Carol. "How long do you think we have before Negan comes for us?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he's figured out what happened to Dwight by now. He's going to want revenge. But he's a power-hungry lunatic who likes to be in control. I suspect he's going to take some time to figure out how best to make us pay. He'll enjoy the idea that we're anguishing over his arrival. I think we have a little time."

Rick stepped off the porch and paced in the street, weighing his options. If they stayed they would be banking on the hope that they had more firepower than Negan. Rick's fighters would have to be better armed and better prepared since they would be outnumbered. He was confident in his team. They had defended themselves against other groups in the past. None quite as large as Negan's, but he felt sure they could do it.

Then again, they had always lost people when they went up against another group. How could he put a price on the lives of his people? Even if they could defeat Negan and his men, Daryl was right, there would always be more people out there trying to take this place from them. But if they left, if they pursued the ARV and tried to escape planet Earth, they were putting all their eggs in one basket. If they left Alexandria undefended, Negan and his men would surely take it. There would be no coming back to this place. He was hit with a small pang of guilt at the thought of what Deanna would say. How could he abandon the home she had built. Still, his people had to come first. He had to do what was right for the people.

He stopped pacing. He wasn't going to be able to resolve this in his head. This was too big. It needed to be a group decision. "Let's gather everyone up. We need to make this decision together."


	29. Chapter 29

It was late afternoon by the time Rick was able to gather everyone together. The population of Alexandria congregated in the street in front of the infirmary so that Scully could stay close to Mulder. Rick stood on the porch gazing over his community, the people who relied on him for protection, guidance, leadership.

Many times before he had rallied his troops. He had looked upon these faces and warned of some impossibly bleak scenario they would have to face. He would reassure them, offer them a plan, a course of action. He would convince them that he believed in them and that they should believe in themselves. And that was true. He firmly believed in the resilience of his team. They were survivors. They had a strong will to live and they would do whatever was required to protect themselves and the ones they loved.

But this was different.

He had always showed them plan he had in mind and convinced them of how it would help them survive. Now he truly didn't know what to do. Two paths lay before him. Both were riddled with problems and dangers. Both had the potential to cost lives. Both had an undeniable chance of failure.

Rick knew this community was looking to him for direction, but what he needed was direction from them. He honestly didn't know which path to take. He couldn't make this choice for them. It was too big. In many ways it was bigger than life and death. This choice was about more than just surviving. It was about a different kind of future.

He scanned the crowd looking into the eyes of Carol and Tara who had entered the viper's nest and knew firsthand what kind of monster would be coming for them. He saw Glenn and Maggie and their newborn baby who deserved some kind of future, something more than day to day survival, waiting for the next threat. He saw Abraham and Eugene, two people with such different backgrounds who were brought together by the end of the world, each managing to survive in very different ways. He saw Michonne, Carl, and Judith. His family. Michonne and Carl wouldn't let him make the wrong decision. They were loyal and they supported him, but they were not followers. They questioned his decisions and thought for themselves. They would make sure he made the best choice. But he still didn't know what that was. He needed this group of people to tell him what that choice would be.

He began. "Most of you have probably guessed why we're here. As you can see Carol and Tara have returned. They brought us information about Negan and his men, the Saviors. That's what they call themselves. But as we all suspected they are not our Saviors. They wanted what we have. They wanted us to hand over the things that keep us alive and then they would come back for more. They wanted to make us their employees, their servants." He took a long pause, trying to envision his people bowing to Negan's demands. He couldn't see it. It never would have happened. It always would have come down to a conflict of some sort, a war.

"But not anymore. I don't think they want that from us anymore. I think they want us exterminated. They're going to be coming for us and there are a lot of them. We'll be outnumbered and maybe outgunned. But we've faced that before. I believe if we're smart and prepared, we can defeat them. We wouldn't be allowed to leave a single one of them standing. Our survival depends on their demise." He could see the apprehension and dismay spread through the crowd like a wave.

"I do believe we can win this war." From the back of the crowd Morgan caught Rick's eye. "But there's another option. We could leave. We could pack up everything we own and proceed with the evacuation plan. The Saviors could show up at our gates and find that no one is home.

"I'm not going to mislead you, it's an equally risky option. We don't know if the spaceship is going to be there. We don't know that it will be operational. We have no guarantees. The one guarantee we do have is that we can't come back here. The Saviors are coming. If they come here and find Alexandria deserted, they will take it. This place will not be our home anymore. I can't make this decision for you. It's too big for one person to decide. It's too final. But we have to decide together. It's one option or the other and we have to all be on board. It has to be unanimous. We stay and we fight or we leave and we pray." Rick fell silent. He needed to let this information sink in. He needed to give them time to process, to decide for themselves what they thought was right.

Maggie was the first to speak. "When do we have to decide?"

"Now," Rick replied. "We have to decide right now. Negan and his men are coming. We don't know exactly when, but you can bet it will be soon. Either we prep for battle or we prep to roll out. Now."

Maggie looked at the tiny baby cradled in her arms and looked into Glenn's eyes. One option meant protecting this helpless little lifeform from battle. The other meant removing him from the protection of these walls. She didn't know what to do. Glenn spoke on her behalf. "Is this really it? Two choices? Don't we have any other options?"

"I'm open to any suggestions you may have." Rick scanned the crowd. Everyone was silent. No one had any suggestions to give.

Eugene was next to speak up. "I just want it to be known that whatever you all decide I am fully equipped and prepared to pilot that spacecraft. I have thoroughly and studiously committed the related documentation to memory and I have full confidence in my ability to navigate that ship." Abraham gave a small scoff, leaving Eugene with a hurt look on his face, but he didn't rise to the bait.

Abraham voiced his opinion. "Either, or. I'm with you, Rick. If you want to stay I'll be the first man at the front gate with an RPG over my shoulder. If you want to leave I'll drive the damn bus. I would love to rid the world of this Negan bastard. But I'd be equally happy to leave him standing around with his dick in his hand wondering where we ran off to. You say the word. I'm with you."

"It's not about what I want." Rick couldn't emphasize enough how much he did not want to make this decision. "It's about what's best for this group, for all of you. We have to decide together. Is it war or is it flight?"

Morgan had been gathering his thoughts. He finally spoke. "You and Negan, you're the same. Or at least you could be." Rick looked resistant, ready to blow off Morgan's implication. "You're both killers. You're both quick to declare war. But I know you. I know who you used to be. You're still that man inside. You're still the man that once said 'we don't kill the living.' You're at a crossroads right now, Rick. Right in this moment. If you declare war on these people who you've never even met, then you are Negan. You're exactly the demon you make him out to be. But maybe it doesn't have to be like that. Maybe it's time you leave this place and give yourself a chance to be someone else. Give yourself a chance to be the Rick Grimes that I met in Atlanta. You're not too far gone, Rick. Not yet."

Rick paced, unwilling to take a critical look at himself for fear that Morgan might be right. Michonne had a thoughtful look in her eye when she said, "It comes down to life. If we fight people will die. Our people. Their people. Whether or not you value all lives the same doesn't matter. It could be any of us. It could be all of us. This has been our home for a long time now. But I think that time is up. We need to move on and give ourselves a chance to live."

"But what about everyone else?" Carl interjected. "We're talking about a one way ticket. We're talking about leaving the planet and never coming back. What about the people who aren't standing here in the street with us right now? Do we just condemn them this earth that's trying to swallow us all up? Do we leave them behind without ever saying goodbye?"

"Is this about Enid?" Rick wanted to know.

"It's not just about Enid." Carl was defensive. "But yeah, it is. She left knowing we were here if she was ever ready to come back. I've seen signs of her out there. She's still close by. What if she comes back here and the Saviors have taken over? Can you imagine what they would do to her? And she would never have any idea where we went. She'd probably figure we were all dead. How can we do that to her? This was her home too."

"This is home to all of us." Spencer moved forward from the back of the crowd. "This is the home my parents built. It's their legacy. These walls are all I have left of my father. This community is all I have left of my mother. We all have loved ones buried here. We have to defend this. We can't just hand it over to them. We have to stay. We have to fight."

"Sentimentality is a pretty stupid reason to die, if you ask me." Everyone was slightly startled by the sudden appearance of Mulder in the doorway of the infirmary. His bloodshot eyes looked sunken in. He was shirtless, bandaged, and covered in dirt and dried blood. He leaned against the doorway because he wasn't yet at full strength, but he clearly needed to address these people. "If you leave, then yes you leave behind these houses, these walls, the buried bodies of people who meant something to you. I'm not saying those things are worthless, I'm just asking you if it's worth your life." Spencer didn't want to hear what Mulder had to say, but he stood with his jaw clenched, reluctantly hearing him out. "If you leave you lose your home. If you stay you could lose your home and your life. Even if you win the war you will have to get ready for the next one. Ask yourself, how many more wars can you sustain? Why not go where the wars can't find you?

"We keep thinking of this as the end of the world. It's not. The earth will live on indefinitely. She is resilient. This is just the end of mankind on earth. We've gotten our walking papers. This planet has made it clear we're no longer welcome here. So let's go someplace where we can survive. Let's give ourselves a second chance at life. Let's not get ourselves killed because we want to hang on to some walls and some houses and some burial plots. Sentimentality is a crutch. And this crutch is broken."

Everyone was quiet for a long time. The tension rose from the crowd like steam off boiling water. Every Alexandrian deciding for themselves between fight and flight.

Rick broke the silence. "Why don't we take a vote. If you think we should leave raise your hand. Raise it high."

Mulder's hand shot up immediately, followed quickly by Morgan and Eugene. As Rick scanned the crowd he saw more hands slowly rise into the air. Carol raised her hand, then Tara. Denise joined in. After sharing a meaningful glance, Glenn and Maggie also raised their hands. Michonne calmly stared deep into Rick's eyes as she raised her hand high, leaving Carl looking heartbroken.

Soon every hand was in the air except Carl's and Spencer's. Carl leaned in and quietly asked Michonne, "How can we leave her here? If it was me out there would you leave?"

"She made a choice and she's been gone a long time. We can't put the lives of all these people in jeopardy because of one girl who doesn't want to be found." She looked into Carl's stubborn expression, willing her to take his side. "How do you think she'd feel if she found out you stayed here and got yourself killed because you were worried about her. What would Enid tell you to do right now?"

Carl jutted out his chin, wanting to argue but losing his resolve. Slowly and with a sense of defeat he raised his hand in the air.

Spencer alone held both hands balled in tight fists at his sides. He glared at Rick, resenting him for putting this decision on them. Through gritted teeth he said, "You promised my mother that you would protect this place."

Rick shook his head, vividly remembering his last conversation with Deanna. "No. I promised her I would protect these people. That's what she asked me to do. She wanted me to protect her people just like my own. She told me they're all my people now. And that's exactly what I intend to do. I will protect my people. All of you."

Spencer unclenched his fists. He had no choice but to stand with these people, regardless of what that meant for his family's legacy. With ire in his eyes he slowly raised one hand into the air.

As Rick surveyed his team and saw every Alexandrian in agreement he raised his own hand high. "Alright then. It's decided. We roll out. We have tonight to assemble everything we're bringing with us. I want an extra guard in every tower all night." He shot a sideways glance at Scully, trying to let her know that it was imperative she got the _arcB_ ready in time. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod to indicate she would be ready. "We leave at daybreak."


	30. Chapter 30

"Got one!" Denise declared victory over a strand of _arcB_ DNA. She and Scully sat hunched over their microscopes in the infirmary searching through sample after sample of Scully's blood. The sun had gone down a few hours ago and the two doctors had settled in for a long night of the biology version of Where's Waldo.

Scully had been given the arcB gene when she was abducted by the government under the guise of an alien abduction. She had been one of the chosen ones to receive the full gene pairing that would give her immunity against what was to come. She still didn't understand why. Why was she chosen over anyone else? She would probably never know.

Mulder was also chosen to receive _arcB_ and be saved from the aluminum-phosphide trigger that would effectively render humankind extinct. But he refused. Unlike Scully, he wasn't abducted and administered injections against his will. He was approached by the Smoking Man, Spender, or whatever his real name was. The gene was presented to him as an option. It was a chance to stand with the rest of the chosen ones at the end of the world and watch it all burn.

He declined, of course. He wanted no part of that plan and he still held out hope that he could stop it at that time. He declined the arcB genome and he almost paid the ultimate price for it. Mulder killed Spender thinking that would stop the aluminum-phosphide gas from being released. But the gas was released anyway and within 24 hours Mulder's immune system had shut down along with nearly everyone else in the world.

Even though he was dying, Mulder was still on a mission to stop all of this. He thought there might be a way to reverse it if he could just get back to his office and do some more research. He nearly died in the car on the way there. Scully barely got to him in time.

She had a theory about the _arcA-arcB_ gene pairing. Mulder confirmed her theory when he shared what he had learned from the Smoking Man. She had _arcB_ and he didn't. That's what it would take to save his life. He would have to accept the very thing he had refused one day earlier. Scully didn't give him a chance to argue. He was in no condition to do so anyway since he was sick and looked to be on the brink of death. She gave him an infusion of her blood right there on the freeway in the middle of what would become a permanently motionless traffic jam.

Mulder recovered. He came back from near death. Now Scully's blood ran through his veins, keeping him alive, enabling him to help others keep living. Enabling him to help people find a way out of this mess.

The infusion method was very simple and effective for Mulder because they shared compatible blood types. But that wouldn't be an option for the Alexandrians. She didn't know any of their blood types and even if she did, the volume of blood she would have to give in order to give everyone in the community the _arcB_ gene would drain her. So she and Denise had to go the more tedious route, plucking strands of DNA out of separated blood samples with a tiny syringe, one by one.

They had been at it for several hours and still didn't even have half of what they needed. But Scully was confident they would have enough by morning.

She was so focused she barely noticed when Mulder got out of his infirmary bed and walked up behind her. She jumped when he rested his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Easy, quickdraw," he teased as she whipped around to face him.

"You're supposed to be resting. What are you doing up?"

He smiled at her, trying to ease her concern. "I'm feeling very well rested. I'm going to try to make myself useful now."

"Mulder you were shot and knocked unconscious. You should be resting until it's time to go."

"What, and miss out on all the excitement?" He was clearly thrilled to finally be heading out to the ARV. But he understood that Scully had good cause to be worried about him. "I'm feeling much better, really. I just want to help in some way. I promise I won't do any heavy lifting. Besides, the longer I stay here the more distracting I'll be to the two of you."

Scully glanced back at her microscope. She really did need to stay focused. "Fine, but don't strain yourself. If you feel dizzy or anything, you have someone bring you back here immediately, got it?" She was using her mom voice. It was involuntary on her part but Mulder found it endearing.

"Scout's honor," he replied, holding three fingers in the air.

"Immediately, Mulder!" She was insistent.

"Okay, okay! I promise." With his reassurance Scully turned back to her DNA extraction. Mulder carefully pulled on a T-shirt and made his way out of the infirmary.

Out on the streets of Alexandria there was lots of activity. Even though it was the dead of night, people shuffled through the streets carrying everything they thought necessary to the fleet of vehicles lined up at the front gate. What do you pack when you're planning on leaving planet Earth, never to return? Apparently the answer is everything you can fit. People scurried about with more than just food and weapons and clothes. People were packing books, pictures, mementos of the existence they were leaving behind.

It reminded him of the early days of the outbreak. People were fleeing their homes with photo albums and souvenirs and Grandma's ashes. They still thought those things mattered. Sentimentality, that's all it was. He wasn't going to stop these people now from taking with them what they wanted. They might feel silly later, showing up on a foreign planet with a copy of War and Peace, but if it gave them some small measure of comfort for the journey, so be it. At least they were moving forward. At least they had a plan.

Mulder stopped his wandering when he found himself at the foot of the East guard tower. He craned his neck up. Through the darkness he could just make out the pair of angel wings emblazoned on the back of Daryl's leather vest. He slowly and carefully climbed the tower.

As he reached the platform on top Daryl greeted him. "Hey. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping."

"I think you're supposed to stay awake after a concussion. I thought you were supposed to have two people in each tower. Wasn't that Rick's order?"

"Carol was here. I sent her home. She didn't sleep at all last night. She needs to rest up for the trip in the morning."

Mulder remembered that Daryl hadn't slept the night before either, but he didn't bring it up. "Mind if I join you?"

Daryl scooted over and offered Mulder a place to lean against the rail of the tower. "You take the radio. I've got the binoculars."

Mulder fingered the buttons of the radio and then gazed out over the vast expanse of darkness stretching out all around them. Binoculars wouldn't do much good. He looked up at the stars and observed there was only a sliver of a moon. He thought of all the stories of ghosts and boogie men people liked to tell. They always liked to talk about the full moon. They should really talk about a night with no moon. It's much more frightening. Still, the stars were beautiful.

Mulder interrupted the silence that had settled around them. "A wise man once said, 'If people looked at the stars each night, they'd live a lot differently. When you look into infinity, you realize there are more important things than what people do all day.'"

Daryl trained his gaze up toward the sky and thought about the quote. "Who said that?"

"Bill Watterson."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. The point is most people never took the time to look at the stars. Now we have all the time in the world. And as you can see people have definitely changed the things they do all day."

Mulder's thoughtful mood made Daryl a little uncomfortable. In a way it was easier to deal with him when they were yelling at eachother. When Mulder got that far away look Daryl was never quite sure what to say. Lucky for him that didn't matter much for Mulder. He just went right on talking.

"It's like my entire life I've been looking up, always searching the sky, always sure that there was something else out there. Like if we could just get rid of all the noise we'd be able to hear someone in some far away galaxy calling out, wondering if there's life out there. And now the noise is gone. It seems strange to see the sky so quiet. When's the last time you saw an airplane?"

Daryl considered it for a moment and replied. "I can't remember. I guess I never thought about it. I never paid much attention to the sky. I feel like I spent my whole life looking at the ground."

"Is that because you're a tracker?" It was hard for Mulder to imagine a life without wonderment of the great beyond.

"That was part of it. Also I just always knew to keep my head down. Growing up I learned real quick that whoever was the most invisible was the least likely to get the belt. Just became a way of life I guess."

They shared a long pause in which both Daryl and Mulder reflected on how different their lives had been before the outbreak. A future where their paths might have crossed would have seemed impossible. Yet here they were with their paths now intertwined.

Finally Daryl finished his thought. "But I'm looking up now."

Mulder turned away from the darkness and stole a small glance at Daryl. With the hint of a smile he said, "And all it took was the end of the world."

Daryl had half a mind to lean in for a kiss when something caught his attention in the distance. "The hell is that?" he wondered out loud. A small flicker of light danced in the darkness. He peered at it through his binoculars. Way out where the road to Alexandria disappeared into the tree line was a pair of headlights. Even through the binoculars they were little more than tiny white dots. The surrounding darkness made it impossible to tell what type of vehicle it was or how many people it carried. The only thing that was clear was that it was not approaching. It had pulled just barely into view and then stopped.

"Radio Rick. Tell him we've got company."

Mulder held the radio to his mouth and pressed the talk button. "Hey, Rick. We're in the East tower and we've got eyes on a parked vehicle sitting out on the road."

Rick's voice came over the radio. "Just parked? Not approaching?"

Mulder responded. "Just parked. Like maybe they don't even know we're here."

Daryl muttered under his breath. "Or like they know we're here and they want us to see them."

Rick began barking orders to his troops through the radio. He wanted every guard tower ready to fire. He wanted reinforcement at the gates. He wanted his whole town armed and ready. Daryl could hear scurrying among the town behind him as everyone prepared for battle.

Then, just as quickly as it had arrived, the vehicle in the distance turned and left. Tail lights trailed off into the tree line and disappeared.

Daryl grabbed the radio from Mulder. "They're gone, Rick."

"What do you mean gone?"

"I mean they turned around and left."

There was a long pause. Then Rick's voice came back. "Why would they leave? That doesn't make sense. Maybe we should send a team to check it out."

"You sure about that?" Daryl didn't think it was a good idea. "What if it's a trap? What if they're trying to lure us out, separate us?"

Again there was a long pause. Rick was mulling over his options.

Daryl set out to convince him further. "Think about it. They came just into view with their headlights on. They could have rolled up in the dark, lights out. They wanted us to see them. They've got some type of a plan. We've got one too. Let's stick to our plan."

After a little more hesitation Rick said, "Okay. Okay, we stick to the plan. Two guards in every tower. Radio check-ins every 20 minutes. No one leaves until sun up."

All the guards chimed in one by one over the radio, confirming their understanding. Daryl turned to Mulder. "I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to lay eyes on this space ship of yours."

Mulder's smirk was barely visible in the dim light from the sliver of a moon. "I knew you'd come around."


	31. Chapter 31

"There's something out there alright." Rick squinted through the binoculars out into the pale morning light. He stood on the platform of the East guard tower with Daryl by his side, trying to get a look at the place where the headlights had been spotted a few hours earlier. "But what the hell is it?"

"Can't tell." Daryl rubbed his tired eyes. He had been in the tower all night and was ready to get on with the evacuation of Alexandria. "Did Denise and Scully get all the DNA they needed?"

Rick held his gaze leveled through the binoculars, intrigued and nervous about what awaited them at the end of the road. "Yeah, they said they got enough."

"You want to send a team out to check on that?" Daryl gestured toward the object that sat in the middle of the road in the distance. It was too small, too far away to make out what it was. It wasn't a person or a walker. It was too narrow and it had been completely motionless all this time. There was no way of knowing unless they got closer. Daryl still worried it was some sort of trap.

"No," Rick said, finally lowering the binoculars. "No, we all get our injections in the infirmary. Then we all move out together. Whatever's out there, we'll face it together. That's when we're strongest."

The population of Alexandria lined up outside the infirmary. Scully and Denise admitted two residents at a time for a quick injection in the arm. It was such a simple thing. One tiny stab of the needle meant the difference between becoming one of the walking dead or eventually passing into a peaceful nonexistence. It was the difference between life and death on the alien planet to which they would journey. But here on Earth it was just a tiny little poke and a bandaid.

Michonne and Carl waited in line with everyone else. She gave him an appraising look. She knew he wasn't happy about abandoning his search for Enid and leaving her behind. But he looked more accepting than he had the day before, which gave her some measure of relief.

"Hey," she said, nudging him. "You okay?"

Carl gave her a sideways glance and a half smile at her concern. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You still worried about Enid? You know that girl is tough, right? She knows how to take care of herself. If she had wanted to be in this community she would have come back a long time ago. Some people just need to be on their own."

Carl looked out past the streets of Alexandria, along the top of the fence line, past the trees and beyond. "I know she's tough. I just wish I could have said goodbye, you know?"

They had all lost enough people that Michonne knew very well the pain of not being able to say goodbye. She pictured Enid in her mind. "I don't think she liked goodbyes much anyway."

"I left her a message." There was a slight tone of defiance in his voice.

Michonne's eyebrows knitted together in worry. "What kind of message?" They were trying to give the Saviors the slip. They didn't need to leave any clues behind.

"Don't worry," Carl tried to ease her worry. "It's something only she would understand."

She knew better than to question what kind of message he had left. It seemed like a simple enough question, but to Carl it would mean questioning his manhood. He had been a boy when the outbreak started. But there was no doubt that he was now a man. The apocalypse had a way of forcing kids to grow up quickly. Still, she knew he could be a little defensive about people treating him like a child. So she dropped the subject. The line shuffled forward.

Behind them, also waiting for _arcB_ , Carol stood near Morgan. This was one of the few times they had been on the same side of a decision. They both agreed that leaving Alexandria was the better choice.

Morgan had been through some things that the rest of the group had not. He had met Rick in Atlanta, but they had gone their separate ways shortly after. Rick went on to meet up with this band of people who had become his family. Morgan had been largely alone. He had slipped away into something that could not rightly be called reality. He had become a cold hearted killer. A murderer. And it had driven him to the brink of insanity. But he had come back. Someone very important to him had brought him back from the brink and now he saw life in a whole new way. He could not bring himself to kill anymore. He couldn't live with it any longer.

Carol was a fighter. She would defend her people to the bitter end. But she wasn't one to go looking for a fight. Every person she had ever killed, she did so to save people she loved. She didn't hesitate to step up for the good of her people. Still, she was not a hunter. She had struggled for the while with how to live with death on her conscience. Ultimately she had decided that if one person's death meant life for her people, then she could live with it. But she would only kill in self defense or the defense of her loved ones. She felt she could still justify a war with Negan as self defense. But if there was an option to get out without a loss of life, then she was all for it.

Morgan wondered if she was turning over a new leaf. "Can I ask you what made you change your mind about going to war with the Saviors?"

Carol was a little surprised by his question. "I never wanted a war. It just seemed like that might be the only option at first."

"Wasn't that your idea? You wanted to go learn about these people so that we could defeat them. You wanted to kill them."

"It wasn't like that. I told you before, it's about protecting what's good in the world. We're good people, all of us. Negan isn't. If someone is going to try to hurt us then we need to stop them. I don't think that's the same as wanting to kill them."

Morgan thought about her justification. He couldn't justify killing like that. He couldn't sleep at night. "I think Rick wanted to kill them."

Carol searched the crowd for Rick. He was nowhere to be seen, probably preparing for the journey. "And what if he did? Isn't wanting to kill them the same as wanting to survive?"

Morgan shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't think he kills to protect his own life. I think he kills because a person's existence is inconvenient to him. If he thinks there's a chance someone might be a threat someday he wants to take them out before they have a chance."

"Is that so wrong?" Carol understood what Morgan was getting at. But Rick was their leader. He had to make the hard choices sometimes. That's just the way it worked in the new world.

"It depends on whether or not he can live with it. I think he's losing his humanity. Maybe it's already gone. I know he's been through some things. It's changed him. But somewhere along the way he started greeting everyone with goodbye. That's no way to live. If we get out of this world and find a new home where we can be safe, I don't know if he'll be able to live with the things he's done."

"Those are his demons to live with. You shouldn't worry yourself with that." Carol really tried to be understanding of Morgan's views on death, on good and evil. But she didn't think it was realistic in this world. Luckily for both of them, if things went to plan they wouldn't be long for this world.

"He's my friend. His demons are my demons."

It was their turn to enter the infirmary and receive their injections. Carol let the subject drop. She just prayed they could get out of Alexandria before Negan's people caught up with them. Otherwise they would all have more demons to face.

After everyone had received their injections without incident the town assembled near the front gate. A Winnebago and four cars were lined up along the interior of the fence, packed and loaded for their exit. The houses had been cleared of anything that might be useful for the journey. The pantry and the armory were bare. The sun had fully emerged over the horizon. It was time to go.

Rick addressed his people. "The time has come. We're moving out. Permanently. I know that many of you have been out there. You've had to defend yourself. You've had to face monsters, both living and dead. But some of you have rarely been outside these walls. You've all had some amount of training. But I need to impress upon you the importance of being prepared. You cannot let fear take hold of you. You have to be aware of your surroundings. You have to be ready for whatever might try to come between us and our goal. Do not hesitate to defend yourself or your comrades. Take comfort in the fact that we are all here to protect each other. We're in this together. This is the end of our time in Alexandria. This is not the end of our time." He knew it must be all in his head, but he could swear he could feel the alien DNA tingling through his veins. It felt foreign. Yet somehow it felt right. It gave him the confidence he needed. He finally knew that they were doing the right thing. "Let's roll out."

Everyone moved forward to enter one of the vehicles that would carry them away from the home they had known for so long. There was a nervous energy in the air that kept most everyone silent.

Abraham stood outside the Winnebago, ushering people in. "Come on. Last call. It'll be a tight squeeze, but we'll all fit. Nuts to butts, let's go." With the majority of the population of Alexandria crammed into the RV, he climbed into the driver's seat. When everyone else was loaded up Rick, got behind the wheel of the first car with Michonne, Carl, Judith, and Morgan as his passengers. Glenn sat behind the wheel of the second car, packed in with Maggie, their baby, Tara, and Denise. The third car would be driven by Carol who was accompanied by Daryl, Mulder, and Scully. The tail car was driven by Sasha, carrying Spencer as her copilot and a few other Alexandrians. All vehicles were armed to the teeth.

Eugene, alone, stood at the gate waiting to let the caravan out of the town. Abraham glanced at his side view mirror and got a thumbs up from Rick. He called out his window to Eugene. "Hit it!"

Eugene slid the wall back and then the gate, allowing a wide berth for all the vehicles to exit. Abraham and the Winnebago pulled through first and stopped a little ways out, waiting for the rest of the crew.

Rick pulled his car up to the gate and stopped alongside Eugene. "Hop in the RV and we'll get going."

Eugene was perplexed. "But I need to shut the gate."

Rick examined the gate and took a last look back at Alexandria. "Leave it open. We won't be coming back here. No need to keep it secure."

Eugene looked at the wide open gate and then at the town within. It had been his job so many times to make sure this place was secured. It felt wrong to leave it vulnerable like this. But Rick had a point, they had no need to keep it locked up anymore. He walked up to the door of the RV and let himself in. The caravan rolled on down the road.

Abraham, being in the lead vehicle, had been given the job of keeping eyes on whatever awaited them where the road met the tree line. There was no doubt there was something out there and everyone felt positive it was the Saviors who had left it there in the dark of night. It was very likely some kind of trap. Abraham was on high alert.

Rosita sat in the passenger seat next to him. She could tell he was on edge. "Hey," she said, catching his attention but not his eye contact. He continued to stare down the road. "You okay? You sure you don't want someone else to drive?"

Abraham shook his head. "Nope, I'm just fine driving this hunk of junk."

"Are you sure? I know you're a terrible backseat driver, but I'll drive if you want me to." She was scanning his face, looking for some sign of a lightening mood. What she saw was a widening of his eyes and the whitening of his knuckles as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Holy hell!" he exclaimed. Rosita returned her gaze toward the road as the Winnebago came to a halt.

About 50 yards out they saw what had been placed in the road the night before. Rick's voice came over the radio. "What's wrong? Why are we stopping."

Rosita couldn't take her eyes off the sight in front of her, but she managed to find the radio anyway. She pressed the talk button and said, "I think you're going to want to see this for yourself."

Rick climbed out of the car, as did Michonne, Glenn, and Carol. As they came up alongside the RV, weapons drawn, they saw a sight that stopped them in their tracks.

It wasn't a trap, at least not as far as they could tell. It was a message. Driven into the road was a long wooden staff, probably a broom handle or something of the sort. Sitting atop the staff was the head of a young woman, roughly sawed off at the neck. There weren't any other marks on her head. She didn't look beaten or abused. She wasn't terribly bloody. It looked as though she may have been beheaded while she was still alive. Her milky dead eyes took in her visitors' presence while her teeth gnashed wildly, craving the live meat she could smell.

Carol was the first to lower her gun. She whispered a barely audible, "No."

She was drowned out by a much louder cry from behind her. Tara had made her way out of the car and had seen the reason for their unplanned stop. She stumbled forward and nearly fell. Glenn just barely caught her and she immediately vomited.

Glenn couldn't understand her extreme reaction. It was definitely a gruesome sight, but he knew for a fact she had seen much worse. "Tara," he said, still holding her up. "Tara, it's going to be okay. We'll take care of it."

She regained her footing, but Glenn still held onto her, trying to comfort her. "It is not going to be okay," she cried out indignantly. "You don't understand. That's Amber." She turned to look at Carol, astonished that she didn't seem equally affected. "That's _Amber_!"

Glenn, Rick, and Michonne looked to Carol for an explanation. Carol couldn't tear her eyes away from the disembodied head, but she managed to offer a soft spoken and brief answer to their unasked question. "That's Amber. That's the woman we tried to save. We tried to help her escape Negan." It wasn't that Carol didn't feel repulsed, nauseous, grief stricken. She just didn't let her emotions surface the same way.

Tara's stomach heaved again, but she had nothing left to expel. "I tried to help her. She was the one. I tried to help her and now she's dead. He killed her because of me!"

Glenn's heart broke for her. He knew why Tara had gone with Carol to the Saviors' compound. She felt she had something to atone for. She thought she was doing the right thing. Now she blamed herself for this poor girl's fate.

Rick moved forward, pulling a knife from his belt as he approached the reanimated head.

"Wait," Carol uttered from behind him. Rick looked back at her over his shoulder. "I should be the one."

Rick knew her well. The two of them had been together a long time. Although it might not show on her face, Rick knew this hurt her. It shook her to her core. He understood why it had to be her.

Carol stepped forward and Rick placed his knife in her hand. She approached Amber's head slowly, imagining what she must have gone through leading up to the moment she was killed. Did Negan do it himself or order someone else to end this girl's life? Did he make a big show of it as he had with Mark's punishment? Or was this kept quieter? What was Mark's fate? She hoped she'd never find out.

Carol peered into Amber's soulless eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry." She raised Rick's knife and took care to sweep Amber's hair back. She pierced the severed head right behind the ear, bringing her to her final resting state. Carol carefully lifted the head off of the staff and carried it with both hands at the base of the skull over to the side of the road. She gently placed Amber's head in the grass and closed her lifeless eyes. Then she squeezed her own eyes shut and said a silent prayer. It was a prayer for Amber's soul, for Mark's fate, for the fate of her own people. It was a prayer that they could get out alive and never return to this nightmare. It was a prayer for hope.

She was so deep in prayer that she almost didn't hear the scream.


	32. Chapter 32

It was a trap afterall. The scream came as one loud burst that was quickly muffled. It was a sound of shock and surprise, not terror. There was very little that could scare this group anymore. They had been through too much. Most of the crew whipped around immediately to see what the commotion was about. Others stepped out of the vehicles they had still be sitting in. Carol, who still knelt on the ground, was the last one to peel her eyes away from Amber's severed head to investigate the source of the shout.

While Carol had dealt with the discovery of Amber's fate, Sasha and Spencer had made their way out of the last vehicle in their caravan. Nearly every member of Alexandria stood in the road, observing Sasha and Spencer standing at the back of their pack. They each stood with their hands raised in the air, still armed with their guns, but helpless to use them. Each of them had a gun pressed hard against their temple. Two Savior men held the pair captive, using them as human shields against the nearly two dozen Alexandrians with guns trained in their direction.

Rick's first instinct was to issue a demand. "You're outnumbered. Let them go!"

The man hiding behind Spencer chuckled. "Who says we're outnumbered. Besides, we're just here to talk."

Daryl recognized the voice immediately. He called out to Rick. "Hey, these are the guys who jumped us yesterday. He's the one who took my bike."

It was the man who had been weilding the crowbar the day before who now held Spencer hostage. "Hello again," he said with another laugh. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon."

Rick could only see one of the man's eyes as he used Spencer for cover. Rick looked into that eye, as he always did when faced with an enemy. He was looking for the truth. "No, you are outnumbered. I'm willing to bet it's just the two of you out here. You want to talk? Let's talk. Let go of my people and I'll make sure you don't suffer."

"You must be the fabled Rick Grimes." The humor was still present in the man's voice. "I see you got Negan's message. The way he sees it, you cost him two of his people. So now he'll be taking two of yours. I figure these two will do nicely."

Spencer's eyes were wide with fear while Sasha's were wide with rage. Spencer hadn't been forced to survive outside the walls of Alexandria. He hadn't learned to defend himself the way many of Rick's people had. He also was unsure how loyal Rick truly was to him. Would Rick hesitate to let him die if it meant saving the rest of his group? Spencer wasn't so sure.

Sasha, on the other hand, knew all too well how to defend herself. When someone challenged her or threatened her, it didn't make her afraid. It made her angry. She was fairly certain she could take out the punk holding her captive without too much trouble. But she knew Rick would have a plan. Rick always had a plan. So she waited, fury bubbling up inside her, ready to fight back.

Rick addressed the apparent ringleader of the duo. "You got a name?"

"The name's Fisher. Negan is itching to talk to you directly. But like I said, I'm just here to collect. Negan wants two of your people. Dead or alive, that part is up to you."

Rick didn't take kindly to threats against his people. His voice came out as a guttural growl. "You're not taking them."

Fisher replied. "You must admit, it's only fair seeing as how you cost him two of his people."

"He killed his own people," Rick snapped back. "That blood's not on my hands."

"Let's agree to disagree." Fisher was clearly amused by this whole exchange.

Rick was clearly not. "Why don't you step out where I can see you." He just needed a clear shot. One shot and this could all be over. He had agonized over the decision of whether to stay or go. He had let his people decide. They had all opted to avoid the battle and save the bloodshed. Now here they were yet again. Blood would be spilled here today. The question was whose blood it would be.

"That's not going to happen." Fisher remained behind his hostage. "What's going to happen is we are going to back away with our two new friends here and you're going to hold your fire while we do so. If you want your friends to live, that's the way it will have to go down. Once we're gone you'll go back to that surburbia you call home and and wait for Negan to come talk to you. Is that clear?"

Rick couldn't let that happen. None of the Alexandrians could let that happen. But no one had a clear shot and no one was going to let Spencer or Sasha get hurt. Rick's mind raced, searching for a solution, trying to formulate a plan, praying for a miracle.

Fisher began to repeat his question. "Is that clear?" But the last word was overshadowed by a gurgling scream from his partner in crime. The man holding Sasha at gunpoint suddenly released his grip as he yelled out in pain. Sasha seized the opportunity. She squatted down and spun around in a quick half circle, clipping him in the ankles with her leg. He fell to the ground, dropping his gun which spun out of reach. Fisher, who was so shocked as to what had just happened to his friend, lost his concentration for a mere second. He swung his gun around in the direction of his partner, hoping to defend him from whatever had caused his screams. In that second of distraction Spencer hit the ground and Rick never missed a beat. He seized the opportunity to pull the trigger of his gun that was pointed exactly where Spencer had stood a mere moment before. The bullet found its home in Fisher's chest, knocking him backwards onto the ground, but not killing him.

With both men temporarily laid out on the road, the source of Fisher's friend's pain became evident. As the whole of Alexandria had stood in the street, addressing the two Saviors who wished to control them, a lone walker had stumbled out of the trees and attacked him from behind. He had been bitten in the back and was bleeding heavily. He screamed as the walker fell on top of him while he lay face down on the pavement.

Rick ran a few paces forward and pulled the trigger of his gun once more, this time shooting Fisher's partner in the head, putting him out of his misery. He looked at Fisher on the ground, writhing in pain and clutching his chest where the gunshot wound created a growing red stain on his shirt. Fisher couldn't speak. Most likely his lung had been punctured and he wasn't getting any air. Still he looked back into Rick's eyes with ferocity, refusing to back down even though it was clear he was beaten.

Rick leaned over Fisher and snarled. "I told you if you'd let them go I'd make sure you didn't suffer. You should have listened." He stood up straight and circled around Fisher's friend to face the back of the walker who was now on top of him, feasting. It was a small one. Rick grabbed it from behind, hoisting it up from under its arm pits and then he quickly put the sole of his boot in its back, driving it in Fisher's direction. The walker apparently had no problem trading one meal for another and quickly bit into Fisher's neck, spurting blood everywhere and causing him to find his voice as he cried out in agony.

Now covered in blood, Rick turned to face his people. Everyone still had their weapons raised, waiting for confirmation that the threat was over; waiting for further instructions. He saw Morgan's face in the crowd, full of sadness and disappointment.

He spoke to Rick. "This is it, Rick. I may never be able to kill a person again. You may think you can't avoid killing. But this is it. If you let that man suffer like that, if you torture him, then you are Negan. Plain and simple."

Rick was filled with immediate regret. Morgan was right and he knew it. What good was it to let this man suffer when all they had to do was get past him and leave this place behind. Why prolong his pain. He swallowed hard against the lump of remorse that was forming in his throat and he gave Morgan a quick nod. He pivoted to face Fisher again, to end him.

As he turned he heard Spencer, who had only managed to crawl a few paces away from the place where Fisher lay dying. At first it sounded like Spencer had just cried or moaned, but suddenly Rick realized it wasn't just a sound, it was a word. Spencer had just said, "Mom."

Rick's eyes flashed to Fisher's nearly dead body and the walker who gorged upon him. It was a small woman, wiry and tenacious. She looked up upon hearing Spencer's cry. It was almost as if some long dead synapse in her brain fired one last time. As if there was a tiny spark of true human life left in there that had been waiting in reserve for this moment. She looked up and saw her son. The corpse of Deanna gazed upon her son. And then she was gone again. Whatever humanity had flashed through her for a split second disappeared, and she was once again nothing more than a flesh eating monster.

Rick felt his stomach turn over and he was afraid he might be sick. Deanna stood and began approaching Spencer like a cat that had just discovered more interesting prey. Spencer scrambled backward, unable to find his footing. Rick stepped in between them, catching Deanna's attention. As he stared into her rotting face, every moment he had ever shared with her flashed before his eyes.

The stream of images began with her questioning him in his interview to be accepted to Alexandria, treating him with human decency even though he probably acted more like a feral dog. He saw her placing her trust in him, accepting him, giving him a position of authority. She gave him a purpose and a tiny piece of his old life back. He saw her huddled over her dying husband, who had been killed by one of her own people. She had demanded that Rick kill her husband's murderer and he had complied swiftly. And then he saw her on her deathbed, making Rick promise to protect Spencer as if he were one of his own. He had given her his word. Never had he imagined that she would be the one he'd be protecting Spencer from.

She approached him, blood covering her mouth and hands, her eyes vacant. He shoved her away and examined her tiny form, much more powerful in death than in life. He couldn't reconcile this creature with the woman he had known. He knew by now that this was not the woman he had grown so fond of. It was not the woman he had accepted as his comrade. She was no longer Deanna. She was nothing more than a shell. Still, it never got any easier to look into the dead eyes of someone you once knew and shoot that person in the head.

Yet his promise to Deanna rang in his ears. He must protect Spencer. He must end her misery. As she lunged once more toward him, with Spencer still on the ground, completely distraught, Rick did what he had to do. He looked into Deanna's hollow eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry." He raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Deanna stumbled backward and landed on top of Fisher who had finally breathed his last breath.

Rick turned again to face his people, his friends, his army. Never had he been more sure that they were doing the right thing. They had to leave this place. They had to get away from all this death. No where on Earth would ever be safe from this living nightmare. This was the only way. "We have to go now." His shoulders heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. "The Saviors are coming."


	33. Chapter 33

Daryl stood over Fisher's mutilated form. A couple of Alexandrians had carefully lifted Deanna's body off of him and carried her to rest near what little remained of Amber. The removal of her corpse from Fisher's body had revealed purple blood, mangled flesh, and a leather strap strung diagonally across his chest.

Daryl crouched down and touched the worn leather with his fingertips, willing it to be what he hoped. He rolled the dead man over and saw his most prized possession left in this world. His crossbow. He delicately slid the strap over Fisher's head and cradled the weapon in his arms, letting Fisher flop gracelessly back onto the ground.

He removed one of the bolts and examined it, tail to tip. Then his eyes shifted focus and fell on Fisher's face, mouth agape, eyelids half open. Daryl spun the bolt in his hand so that he gripped it tip pointed downward. With more calmness than he felt he raised the arrow high and plunged it into the forehead of the Savior who lay before him. He told himself he was doing it so the man wouldn't turn. That it was for the safety of his people. That it was the humane thing to do for Fisher himself. But that wasn't all it was. He needed to unleash the aggression he felt. This man had taken things from him, tried to control him. Daryl punctured his brain to make sure he didn't turn because it was the right thing to do, the safe thing to do. But he withdrew the bolt and plunged it in a second time because this man had nearly killed Mulder. He stabbed him a third time for Sasha and a fourth for Spencer.

He likely would have continued pulverizing the man's face if it weren't for a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Carol's voice brought him out of his rage. "It's done."

Daryl didn't turn to look at her. He looked up from Fisher's bloody corpse toward Alexandria in the distance. "It will never be done."

He stood abruptly, slung his crossbow over his shoulder and strode away from her, from all of them, into the trees. Carol moved to follow him but Rick stopped her. "Give him a minute." Rick took in the sight of Spencer on the side of the road grieving over his mother's body. "We can give him a little time."

Carol faced him. "Rick, this trap was set up just for me. I went to meet Negan so that I could find his weakness, but he found mine. He knew I would stop for her. He knew I would be distracted by this. He knew it would give his men the advantage."

Rick glanced from her guilt ridden face to the two dead bodies lying on the pavement. "I don't know that I'd call that an advantage."

Carol knew what he meant. They had beaten this pair of Negan's men. They had won this standoff. But that wasn't her point. "I am our weakness, Rick. I am the reason he's coming for us."

Rick holstered his gun and placed his hands on her shoulders, making sure he had her full attention. "Carol, you are many things to this group. You are a mother. You are a friend. You are a warrior. But one thing you are not is a weakness. Negan's weakness is that he is craving this war. He wants blood. But we're not going to give it to him. We're getting out of here."

Carol wanted to argue, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an engine roaring to life. The sound did not emanate from any of the vehicles in their caravan. All the Alexandrians who were still standing in the street raised their weapons and faced the mechanical rumble.

Possibilities swirled through Rick's mind. Could it be there were more than just these two dead Saviors waiting to spring their trap? How many might there be and what could their plan entail now that their friends had been killed? He tried to steel himself for any inevitability. Tried to prepare himself for the idea that this war may be unavoidable afterall. His grip tightened on his gun, ready to fire.

Without warning a motorcycle emerged from the trees. It was the bike Fisher had stolen from Daryl the day before, ridden by Daryl himself. He looked suddenly calm, his anger subsided. When he straddled a motorcycle he could forget all that was wrong with the world in that moment.

He bounded through the ditch at the edge of the road and pulled out onto the pavement, stopping his bike next to where Rick still stood with his pistol in a death grip. "They got a truck stashed back there too, if you're interested." Daryl was nonchalant as if disfiguring a dead man's face and storming off into the woods to find a motorcycle were everyday occurrences.

Rick stared at Daryl incredulously. "How did you know it was out there." He indicated the bike with his gun.

Daryl shrugged. "I didn't. Figured they didn't plan on walking back to Negan. I just hoped she'd be there." He caressed the battered, rusty tank of the machine. "You want the truck?"

Rick surveyed their line of vehicles. They were a little cramped, but they didn't know anything about the truck, what kind of shape it was in. It might be more trouble than it was worth. Then he scanned the road, his eyes landing on the two lifeless bodies. Then he glanced back at Alexandria in the distance, a scheme forming in his mind. "Yeah," he nodded, returning his gaze to Daryl. "Yeah, let's get the truck."

After some effort Rick and Daryl stood once again near the gate of Alexandria, a place they thought they had seen for the last time. This time they stood on the outside with the gate shut, admiring their handy work.

"Well, was it worth the trouble?" Daryl asked.

Rick cocked his head sideways, examining the scene. "Sends a message, don't you think?"

Daryl nodded. "I guess so. I'm just not sure what Negan will think of it."

Rick cracked a small smile. "If we get out of here now we may have the good fortune of never finding out what he thinks of it."

"Let's ride." Daryl swung his leg over his motorcycle and waited for Rick to climb on the back. Rick took one final look at their last message to Negan and the Saviors. He tossed the keys of the truck onto its hood and climbed aboard the back of Daryl's bike. They rode out to catch up with their caravan.

Daryl pulled up alongside the car Rick was meant to be driving and he climbed off the bike. Daryl pulled on ahead to lead their line of vehicles while Rick climbed into the driver's seat next to Michonne.

She scanned him up and down. He was bloody, but she had seen him much worse. He did have a little of that death smell on him though. "You good?" she queried.

Rick looked into her eyes, then over his shoulder at Carl in the backseat holding Judith on his lap. "Yeah, I'm good."

Michonne's lips creeped into a smile. She knew he meant it. Rick returned the smile as he raised the radio to his mouth and pressed the button. He held his eye contact with her as he said, "We're good. Let's go."

The caravan rolled on, this time with a determination to not stop for anything until they hit Roxobel, North Carolina.


	34. Chapter 34

"Well ain't that some shit!"

Negan stood outside the fence surrounding Alexandria with one hand propping his favorite weapon, Lucille, over his shoulder and the other hand on his hip. He shook his head, taking in the sight before him. It wasn't as if it were especially gruesome. Gruesome didn't bother Negan one bit. It wasn't as if it were a particularly devastating trap either. He should know. Negan was something of an expert on devastating traps. No that wasn't what impressed him about this message. What impressed him was the fact that someone would have taken the time to annoy him. The people who live here, or used to live here, put in some time and effort to give him this message. It seemed to be their way of saying "screw you" while they were on their way out the door.

When Fisher hadn't returned with his requested two Alexandrians, Negan had decided to enact Plan B. It was time to take the fight to Rick Grimes' doorstep. He had assembled his troops and made the journey to Rick's little town. Upon their approach Negan had taken note of the wooden staff still lodged in the middle of the road. But no head. That was curious. There was also quite a bit of blood on the asphalt. Curiouser.

They had approached the fenceline with caution, not wanting to be taken by surprise. He had sent his men to search the perimeter. They had reported back. There were no other ways in. There were no guards in the towers. Negan had stopped to listen. All was quiet. That's when he had decided no one was home.

He had brought his army to Rick's front door and that son of a bitch wasn't even here. Wouldn't it be hilarious, he had thought, if Rick had hauled off and planned some sort of attack on Salvation while the population of Salvation was on their way here. But no, he had dismissed that idea. Rick would have wanted the home field advantage in this fight. If he were putting up a fight he would have stayed here. He would have been waiting for the Saviors when they arrived.

But he wasn't putting up a fight. He had run. Rick Grimes and his band of Alexandrians had run off. It was a shame, really. Negan had big plans for this crew. Fun plans. Now if he wanted to have his fun, he'd have to track down Rick and his friends first. But to do that he would need some clues from within the walls of Alexandria. And to get inside the walls, he would have to get around Rick's little parting gift.

Four people. Rick had now cost Negan four of his people. Which meant he was owed four people in return. Fair is fair, after all. And here in front of him were two of the people Rick had killed. The truck was backed up to the only gate into Alexandria. It was his own truck, Negan noted. It was backed all the way up, touching the fence. They would have to move the truck to open the gate, there was no doubt about that. That had been the whole point of it, Rick's point. Negan would have to work to gain entry to this compound. And it would be tricky work too. Rick had made sure of it.

Propped up inside the cab of the truck were Fisher and his friend, dead. Negan peered at their bodies through the windshield. At least it looked like they had put up a fight. Still, they were dead, very dead. And they weren't alone. Crammed in among his two dead men were a couple of roamers, gesticulating like they're prone to do when they see a meal nearby. So to move the truck, Negan would first have to deal with the four corpses in the cab, two dead and two undead. But apparently that wasn't enough for Rick. Although Mr. Grimes had been kind enough to leave the keys to the truck, to get to those keys Negan would have to deal with the three additional rotters that had been lashed to the exterior of the vehicle. They were roped to one another and then tied around the truck in such a way that cutting one loose meant releasing the other two. One blocked each of the two cab doors and the third stood in front of the grill. Each one of them reaching for one of the tasty looking Saviors who now surrounded them.

Of course, this was nothing they couldn't handle. Negan had brought enough men to take down this entire town. They would have no trouble dealing with these five living carcasses. Five of them. Negan thought about that as he took a step closer to the one blocking the hood. He leaned in, just barely out of reach of the beast. He laughed out loud, startling some of his men. Five of them. Rick had left him five roamers just like five fingers on a hand. And this one here, this one was Rick's middle finger. Rick knew they'd be able to deal with this obstacle he had thrown in their way. But he also knew it would be something they'd have to deal with. He was making them work.

Negan laughed again. "Hot damn! I can't wait to meet this crazy asshole."

He spun around to face Dwight. Dwight still looked sheepish. He had failed. He had let Carol and Tara get away. He had allowed himself to be beaten, almost killed, by a couple of unarmed women. In the process he had collected another scar. A dark purple line was etched into his neck. Negan's eyes shot to the new blemish. It would fade, but there would always be evidence of his failure. He would wear that shame like a dog collar for the rest of his life. Negan looked at Dwight's face, examining the wound he had inflicted with his iron. That was a much more impressive scar. As he admired his workmanship he thought to himself that Dwight really ought to stop collecting scars. It's a bad habit.

"Well?" Negan asked him. "Are you going to clean up this mess or what?"

Dwight didn't respond to Negan, but began organizing his men. He and two others, armed with spears, surrounded the truck. On Dwight's orders they each plunged their spears through the skulls of the rotten corpses outside the vehicle. They fell limp, pulling the ropes that bound them taut. Once that was taken care of some of the other men began untying the ropes and dragging the bodies out of the way.

Dwight grabbed the keys off the hood of the truck and approached the driver's side door. He rested his hand on the handle and one of the roamers inside pressed its face violently against the window. Dwight's lip curled up in disgust. He had no interest in tangling with this creature.

Negan noticed his hesitation. "Go on. What are you waiting for?"

Dwight finally made eye contact with Negan. "Can't I just shoot it through the window?"

"Do you happen to know a good automobile glass repairman?"

Dwight pursed his lips. He wasn't sure why he had even asked the question. He knew what the answer would be. He pulled on the handle, flung the truck door wide open, and jumped back a few paces. The rotter inside scrambled over Fisher's bloated remains and spilled out onto the ground. As it tried to find its footing Dwight stood over it and jammed his spear into its brain. No sooner had he retracted the weapon than the second walker was struggling out of the cab of the pickup. As with the first, this monster poured out of the cab like a wind up toy that was wound one too many times. He hated that. Dwight hated the way they moved, like some sort of energizer bunny. Couldn't they just stop? All he wanted was for them to stop. He pressed his eyes closed for a moment.

When he opened them this monster was crawling over Dwight's spearing victim and was reaching for his ankle. He raised his boot and brought it down hard on the thing's head. It didn't stop. He stomped it again. It slowed down, but kept coming. He spun his spear around so that the butt of it was pointed down. He slammed it down onto the skull of the beast two, three, four times before it finally stopped moving. But Dwight didn't stop. As the corpse lay prone on the ground he continued to pummel it with his spear handle. When that didn't make him feel any better he dropped to his knees and began pounding the thing with his fists. He flipped the creature over and punched it in the face a couple more times. It's lifeless eyes stared back at him no matter how many times he hit the thing. At least it had finally stopped moving. Then he screamed, a primal yell right in the thing's face. It echoed through the silence that surrounded him. Finally nothing moved. Everything had stopped.

"Feel better?" Negan asked with a condescending tone.

Dwight continued to stare into the obliterated face of the roamer. "Yeah." He stood and located the keys which he had dropped in his fit of rage. He yanked Fisher out of the driver's seat of the truck and climbed in. He started the engine and gave it more gas than was needed. The roar of the motor made him feel a little more manly. It allowed him to forget that he had just thrown a hissy fit in front of all his comrades. He put the truck in gear and pulled away from the gate, parking the vehicle on the side of the road. Returning to the gate, he retrieved his spear, all the while trying to avoid Negan's scrutinizing gaze. It was unavoidable. Dwight rolled the gate back and then the fence the way he had seen Rick do it when he had come to collect Carol and Tara. He nearly stormed into Alexandria all by himself but then thought better of it. He paused at the threshold of the small suburban town and turned to face Negan, waiting for an order.

"Please," Negan said with exaggerated courtesy. "After you."

The army of Saviors swarmed into Alexandria, searching for any clue as to where the inhabitants had gone. What they found was nothing. Virtually nothing had been left behind. No personal belongings, no scrap of food, no bottle of water, no weapons. It was a ghost town. Negan's men ransacked every house, looking for a straggler. Perhaps someone had been left behind and would know where everyone had gone. But no, there was nothing here.

Negan was starting to get disappointed. He had been looking forward to knocking down Rick's door and making him realize who was really in charge. The fact that Rick had turned tail and run off showed that he knew who was in charge. But that didn't come with the same sense of satisfaction. No, he wanted to see the look on Rick's face when he realized he was beaten. He was starting to get especially grumpy about the whole situation when Dwight tracked him down.

"We might have found something. There's a map. I think you're going to want to see it."

Negan stood in Deanna's office. He had never met Deanna. He had know idea that he had driven past her remains in the grass on the side of the road as they had approached Alexandria. But he could recognize someone's headquarters when he saw it. Yes, this was where Rick had made his plans. And all that seemed to be left of those plans was a map with a bunch of red and white push pins in it. It reminded Negan of little kids who put dots on a map for all the places they've visited. But he was willing to bet Rick hadn't visited any of these places. These looked like destinations. And two of them were marked. Some place in New Mexico was marked with a pin and then it had a "X" right on top of it. There was no way Rick was heading to New Mexico. He seemed like a crazy bastard, but even he couldn't be that crazy.

Negan stepped closer to the pin that had three small letters scrawled next to. "J.S.S." What could that stand for? He had no idea, but it didn't matter much. If this was all they had to go on then he knew where they had to go.

"Why would they run off to some little podunk town in North Carolina?" Negan wondered aloud. "Of all places, why there?"

Dwight shrugged. "Maybe one of them is from there?"

Negan leaned in so his nose nearly touched the pin. "I don't think anybody is from there."

"So do you want to go after them?" Dwight sounded indifferent, as if his tantrum earlier had taken all the fight out of him.

"Oh we're going after them alright." Negan looked excited. "You have to follow through on your goals, Dwight." He clapped his disgraced soldier on the back a little harder than would be considered friendly.. "Aim for the sky because, you never know, you might miss."

She watched from the trees as the men filed out of Alexandria. _They look like school boys_ , she thought to herself. A bunch of rowdy boys off to rough someone up for their lunch money. She thought she heard one of them say something about going after them. She would have to be smart about this. She'd have to be stealthy and careful. First she'd have to find out what they knew. She waited for them to pile into their cars and trucks and head out the way they had come. She waited until the engines died off in the distance. _Let them go_ , she thought. She'd catch up with them again. She always had so far. She waited until she was sure she was very much alone and then she climbed down from her treetop perch.

As Enid set foot on Alexandria's soil she felt like an intruder. She had never intended to return to this place. This was not her home. But try as she might she couldn't ignore the people she had left behind. They were in danger. She had caught onto that long ago. Probably before any of them even knew who the Saviors were. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't her problem, that these people could fend for themselves. But she couldn't ignore it. Being alone all the time gave her ample room to get lost in thought. And her thoughts always drifted back to these people.

So she had tracked the Saviors, tried to gather information on them. And now they had some information on where her friends had gone. She needed to find out what their destination was. She silently crept through the streets of Alexandria. It was the only time she had ever seen it completely deserted. One door stood open: Deanna's door. Enid let herself in and quickly searched the place. Her attention soon fell on the same thing that had intrigued Negan. A map. Push pins. Three letters written in Carl's scrawling handwriting.

She whispered, "Just survive somehow."

This was for her. This was Carl's parting message to her and now it was the Savior's only clue as to where her friends had gone. She hoped that wasn't really where they went, that Carl had sent Negan and his men on a wild goose chase. But she had a feeling she couldn't be that lucky. _Dammit, Carl_! She had to go find out for herself.

She reached up and pulled the pin out of Roxobel, North Carolina. She worked her fingers under the edge of the map and pulled. She tore off about a third of the lower half of the United States. No sense in leaving this here for someone else to find.

Besides, if it really was Carl's last message to her, she might as well keep it to remember him by.


	35. Chapter 35

Daryl guided his motorcycle through the back roads of Virginia, leading the parade of Alexandrians south. He had been so relieved to lay eyes on his bike again. Riding in cars always made him feel trapped. If this was going to be the last road trip he ever made, he'd much rather be on this machine than inside a four-door cage.

Although now he was starting to feel like he was trapped in a cage of his own thoughts. There were so many ways this escape plan could go wrong and he couldn't seem to stop them from rattling around in his head.

They had already doubled back twice. Once for a fallen tree in the road. A second time because the road had been washed away down the hillside. It served as a reminder that the world was taking itself back. Humans had spent centuries developing the land, building roads, structures, molding the landscape. It wasn't natural. It was all human invention for the purpose of convenience and comfort. It seemed foolish now. This planet allowed people to exist. Not the other way around. How arrogant was the human race to imagine they could control a force as great as nature? Within a couple years all trace of human existence would likely be erased. All that would be left of mankind would be their trash piles. Just a bunch of rubble that would never decompose. That's the human legacy that would be left behind: garbage.

Daryl shook his head, trying to stop that train of thought. He needed to stay focused. Doubling back meant they had to be very conservative with their gas. If they ran out they would be sitting ducks. Someone would have to trek out to the highway and see if any of the abandoned vehicles had any fuel left to siphon. That was another thing. How long would they be able to keep cars running if they stayed here. At some point all the gas would be gone or would have gone bad. It was like all the years of human invention were rolling backwards. Everyone who was left on Earth would eventually return to caveman days. Even now everyone was starting to behave like Neanderthals.

That brought his mind back to Negan. Doubling back also meant the Saviors had a chance to catch up. It was one more "if" that worried him. What if Negan tracked them, caught up, what then? Then it was time for war, but without the defenses of their walls.

He shook his head again. He couldn't allow himself to follow that train of thought. He couldn't think about the what ifs. He needed to focus on the road in front of him.

Just as he regained his focus he rounded a turn and had to quickly stop his bike. He grabbed a little too much front brake and nearly stood the machine on its nose. As the motorcycle came to a halt he shifted to neutral and brought both feet to the ground. He didn't dismount. He leaned his elbows on the handlebars and cradled his face in his hands as the rest of his convoy pulled up and stopped behind him.

In the road ahead was another obstacle. Mulder had asked him just the night before when was the last time he had seen an airplane. At the time Daryl couldn't remember. But now he could say with complete certainty that he saw an airplane before him now. Although this one wouldn't be flying again any time soon. A small two-man aircraft rested in the road ahead. It sat upside down with its wings stretching diagonally across the pavement. The nearby trees looked scorched as though the plane may have started a small fire when it crashed. But the foliage was already recovering. Vines and branches from nearby shrubs stretched out over the wings and wound around the charred and crumpled body of the plane, spiraling up around the exposed landing gear and wing supports.

The windows into the cockpit were obscured with dirt and plant growth, but Daryl was willing to bet there was at least one walker inside. The best hope for the pilot and any potential passenger was that they brained themselves on impact and didn't turn. But in Daryl's experience very few people got the best they could hope for these days.

Daryl pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to rub away the sight of it, the frustration he felt, the impossibility of it all. It didn't work. The frustration remained, leaving a smoldering feeling in his gut. He could hear the rest of the crew gathering behind him to see the obstruction for themselves. He heard the now too familiar sound of Mulder unfolding his map. The rustling of the paper made him want to rip it in half. Instead he swallowed the feeling of defeat and dismounted his motorcycle, wheeling around to join his team in the next decision to be made.

Mulder spread the map on the hood of Rick's car, leaning in close and tracing their current route backwards with his finger. "A few miles back we passed what looked like some sort of fire road. It's not on the map, but it might connect back to this road somewhere up ahead." He still sounded so optimistic. Nothing in this world could discourage him from getting to his spaceship.

Rick stood next to Mulder as if to look at the map with him, but his head was craned around toward the plane wreck. He couldn't take his eyes away from it, as if staring at it with contempt would make the vessel disappear. In response to Mulder's suggestion he muttered, "Yeah, maybe."

Abraham slammed the door of the Winnebago and abruptly barked, "No!" He caught everyone's attention. "No, we're not turning around. First of all, I can't three-point turn this beast around on this backwoods road and I'm sure as hell not driving it in reverse for a couple miles." He slapped the RV. "Second, I don't know how your gas gauge is looking, but mine's not looking too hot. Besides that, I know no one wants to talk about it, but you've got to figure that douche waffle will be coming after us by now. How many times can we turn around before he catches up?"

Rick looked around at his people gathering in the road. He knew Abraham was expressing what they were all feeling. They were on the simplest step of this mission. All they were doing was driving. They weren't looking for an alien spacecraft yet or trying to navigate to a planet in a distant galaxy. All they were doing was trying to reach an earthly destination that was only a couple hundred miles from their starting point. Yet even this seemed to prove impossible. What chance did they stand of ever reaching their goal? But they couldn't give up now. They had to do something. But what?

"Got any ideas?" Rick asked Abraham.

"We move it," Abraham replied.

Rick's eyes shot back to the destroyed aircraft. "You want to move the plane?"

Abraham walked right up to the airplane, getting a good look at the size of it. "It's not much bigger than a car. There's a couple dozen of us. All we have to do is get it far enough over that embankment that gravity does the rest."

Rick walked up to stand beside him, both men assessing the task at hand. Rick stepped toward the right edge of the road, looking down the slope on that side. Then he turned to face Abraham again. "Let's do this."

Rick rallied his troops and Michonne went to work first, slicing her sword through the binding roots and vines with ease. Next up Rick, Abraham, and Daryl dug out as much dirt as the could from under the downhill side of the plane, trying to reduce the friction and resistance. Down on their hands and knees with dirt working its way under their fingernails and sweat beading up in the humid Virginia air, it felt good to be doing something. So much of their plan was left up to chance. This was one small part where they could take back some control.

With the plane's path cleared as much as possible, Alexandria's biggest and brawniest gathered around the uphill side of the plane and readied themselves for a workout. Rick looked at the dozen or so friends surrounding him, all lined up to make this seemingly impossible task seem possible. Abraham was right. The plane wasn't much larger than a car. They were a team. They were strong together. They could do this.

Rick put both palms on the hull of the aircraft and waited for his friends to do the same. "Ready?" he asked. He was met with nods from his line up. "Together, on three. One, two, three."

Everyone dug in their heels and pushed with all their might. It moved. Not a lot, but it definitely moved. A few more Alexandrians stepped up and found a small piece of real estate to place their hands on the plane. Rick knew they needed this. They all needed this to work. They needed this small win.

"Again, one, two, three." Again they pushed, grunting and sweating. It moved a little more this time. Even more members of the team stepped up. If they couldn't find a spot to get a hand on the plane, they stood behind their friends to brace their feet, giving them something to push off of. Rick grinned to see his community coming together like this, supporting one another, working together. Nearly every man woman and child was now bracing for one more push.

"Let's go! One, two, three!" They heaved and pushed and sweated and pushed some more. And suddenly they didn't have to push so hard. And then they didn't have to push at all.

The plane let out a loud protest of creaks as it found the point of no return and began tilting downhill. It slid and tipped, crashing through shrubs and underbrush as it went. And then all at once it was silent. The vessel came to rest with its body off the road. One wing stuck up in the air at a 45 degree angle, partially hanging over the pavement. But it was enough. They would be able to pass through.

Even in their state of overexertion, Rick's team of warriors let out an elated cheer. They had done it. Now they would be able to move forward. The cheers died down until all that could be heard was the sound of the crew catching their breath.

That and the sound of a slow, delayed clap.

Rick turned and found a stranger among his people. While he stood surrounded by his teammates, a man had approached and stood near their line of vehicles, just a few paces from Maggie who had stayed near the car where her baby slept.

The lone man stood, applauding their efforts. He seemed so shockingly out of place that it took the team a moment to realize he didn't belong there. But when they did, guns were drawn. As Rick looked down his sights at the man, he thought he recognized him as a member of Dwight's posse. As if his own exposure and vulnerability suddenly dawned on him, the man jumped behind Maggie, wrapping an arm around her torso and pinning her arms to her side. With his other hand he withdrew a gun and held it to her head.

Glenn cried out, "Maggie!" But he stopped in his tracks as he saw Maggie give a barely perceptible shake of her head, fire raging behind her eyes. His heart pounded in his chest, but he trusted her instincts. He had to think. He had to be smart.

The Savior spoke. "I'd be careful with that gun if I were you, Chief." His mocking tone seemed out of place for someone so heavily outnumbered.

"Put the weapon down." Rick's voice was calm and measured. "Are you with him?"

The man replied, " We're all with him. Even you. You just don't know it yet."

Rick shook his head, arm still extended with his pistol, unflinching. "No. We'll never be with him."

"We'll see about that." The man glanced into the car as baby William made a tiny sound in his sleep. "Listen, no one has to get hurt here. I'm just meant to detain you until he arrives. He reckons you owe him some of your people. He's real anxious to meet you."

"He won't be taking any of my people." Rick found himself in this position again, waiting for a clear shot while a member of his family was threatened by one of Negan's thugs. But he would not let his fury betray him. He kept his voice even.

"Negan's a fair man. He doesn't need to take any of your fighters. He'd settle for women and children." The man let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe even babies."

That was enough for Maggie. Her life had been threatened many times over, but now she was a mother. No one was going to threaten her child. She kicked one foot back hard and fast, catching the man in the groin. As he curled over and clutched himself she took the opportunity to grab his hand holding the gun. She gripped him around the wrist and yanked up and out while bending forward and pitching her hips upward, causing the main to flip over her shoulder and land hard on his back. It knocked the wind out of him. As he hit the ground Maggie grabbed his gun and fired twice in quick succession, once into each of his hands. She then placed the sole of her boot on his neck and leaned down to push the revolver squarely into his forehead. She didn't fire a third time. Instead she looked to Rick, who had rushed forward with Glenn and Michonne to make sure the intruder didn't move a muscle.

She asked Rick, "Anything you want to ask him before I kill him?"

"Why do you have to kill him?" It was Morgan, once again stepping forward from the back of the pack to argue against the death of another human being, no matter how vile.

Maggie growled at him. "Because he threatened my son."

Rick intervened. "Morgan, this man is a scout. If we let him go he's going to run off and tell Negan exactly where we are and which way we're heading."

The bleeding man sputtered out a small laugh and said, "He already knows." Rick pointed his gun back at the grounded Savior. "He already knows where you're going. All I'm supposed to do is stall you." He laughed again. Rick leaned in close and Maggie removed her boot as he pointed his gun right under the man's chin. He stopped laughing.

"What's your angle? You think if you tell me he knows where we're going I'll spare you? Or are you taunting me?"

The man let out an amused snicker. "Mister Grimes, your reputation precedes you. We both know you're not going to spare me. But I am curious." He lifted his head ever so slightly so he could look Rick in the eye. "What the hell is in Roxobel, anyway?"

Without a second of hesitation Rick fired his pistol, not up through the man's skull but directly into his throat. Thick, dark blood poured out of him and he gasped for breath as he clutched his ruined esophagus with his wounded hands. Rick took a step away and fired two more rounds into the man's chest and he went limp.

Rick turned to face his people. He knew they probably needed some sort of inspiring speech, some sentiment to keep them plugging forward. But he just didn't have it in him. And they were out of time.

"Let's go. We need to keep moving."

Solemnly everyone filed back into their vehicles, a silence hanging over them that no one dared to break. One by one each of the engines in the convoy roared to life. Daryl, sitting astride his motorcycle, looked over his shoulder to see that everyone was ready to carry on. He fired up his bike and kicked it into gear, rolling out past the plane wreckage and continuing on their journey.

A short while later Negan and his army arrived at the same spot in the road. As their trucks and cars rolled to a stop Negan stepped out of the lead vehicle. He examined the plane, the marks it had left on the pavement, the wing hanging precariously overhead. He walked back several yards and squatted down to examined the blood on the concrete. It was clearly fresh. It still had that coppery smell.

Negan stood, some movement in the road just around the bend catching his eye. It was a roamer. He could just see its silhouette as it approached from the road ahead. He stood his ground and allowed it to advance on him. It's shoulders hung to one side as it took slow, jarring steps toward him. As it rounded the bend and was no longer backlit, Negan could see that this wasn't just any roamer. It was one of his scouts.

As it came near, the leader of the Saviors extended Lucille, pressing the end of the bat into the chest of the oncoming corpse, impeding its progress. He examined the bullet wounds. Rick Grimes was a smart man. He knew he had to put a bullet in this guy's head if he didn't want him to turn. So either he wanted to leave another calling card behind or this scout pissed him off enough that he wanted to let him turn. Either way he was dead.

Negan spoke, more to himself than to the men who gathered around him. "Five people. He owes me five people now." He pushed the beast away from him with enough force that it staggered back a few steps. As it regained its footing and lunged forward again Negan violently swung his bat, catching the former Savior on the side of the skull. The impact was enough to end him. Permanently.

A smile spread across Negan's face. "I'll be collecting my five people. With interest."


	36. Chapter 36

A smile spread across Rick's lips as the crew crossed the border into North Carolina. In a way it was a meaningless victory. They still hadn't arrived at their destination. Negan was still presumably coming after them. It wasn't as if getting out of Virginia put them outside of Negan's jurisdiction. State lines were relatively meaningless at this point. And Rick was pretty sure that Negan considered the whole world to be his jurisdiction. Still, it felt good to cross that border. It felt as though they had accomplished something.

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance down at his clothes. He was covered in blood and filth. He had ended the lives of three men since the sun came up and he was painted in their blood as a reminder. He had handled several walkers. He had their blood on him too. Although he almost wouldn't refer to it as blood. It was something else, something thicker, like sludge. It was like their blood was congealing in their veins as they stumbled around in a constant state of limbo, definitely not alive, but also not dead. He could smell it on himself. He smelled like death. Even so, none of the blood he wore was his own and the death he smelled belonged to someone else. That meant today was a good day.

The sun was inching down toward the horizon, casting Michonne in a backlit shadow as she sat in the passenger seat. He felt compelled to say something to her. He wanted her to know he couldn't have done this without her. He couldn't have led his team on this journey unless he knew she was there to back him up. As long as she believed in him he would be able to believe in himself.

Before he could form the words to express these thoughts he was interrupted by the click of the radio. Glenn's voice came over the airwaves. "I'm running on fumes back here. The engine's chugging. This car isn't going to make it."

Rick raised his own radio to his mouth. "Alright, let's pull over and rearrange the cargo. We'll have a tight squeeze the rest of the way, but we're almost there."

The caravan cruised to a slow halt and everyone got out to stretch their legs. It had been a long and trying journey. Rick looked around and could sense that morale was low. But everyone pitched in anyway, unloading the trunk of Glenn's car and putting the contents anywhere it might fit, negotiating who would ride with whom now that they would be down one vehicle. They were a team and they acted like it, even at the end of a long day. A sense of pride welled up inside him.

The sun disappeared behind the horizon and, just like that, dusk was upon them. Rick had really been hoping to reach their destination before dark, but it appeared that ship had sailed. It didn't matter, really. Traveling in the dark wasn't that much more dangerous than traveling by daylight. It gave them less visibility, but that was as much a disadvantage to their enemies as it was to them. They just had to keep up their pace. Especially since Negan knew their destination.

How had he known? Rick had never heard of this tiny little town they were working so hard to reach. He was sure Negan hadn't either. But that Savior, the one Rick had shot in the throat, he had said the name Roxobel. He knew exactly where they were headed. What clue had they left behind? Rick may never know. He just knew they had to get there before the Saviors. And they couldn't do that if they were sitting here on the side of the road. He felt a sudden sense of urgency creeping into his bones. He couldn't sit still. He began pacing the line of vehicles, checking their tires, just to have something to do.

As he reached the back of the row of cars he found Carol sitting on the side of the road leaned up against a tree. She looked defeated, guilt ridden. This was not the Carol he knew. The Carol he knew was an unstoppable force of nature. She did what needed to be done and never looked back. He wasn't sure why she was blaming herself for Negan's actions.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat next to her. "You okay?"

Carol picked up a twig and proceeded to snap it into tiny bits. "No, I'm not okay."

"Is this about that girl, Amber? You can't blame yourself for that. You tried to help her. It's not your fault Negan is a monster."

She didn't meet his eyes. "It's not just that. It's that I could have stopped all of this before it started. Tara and I were alone in a room with that man. He put a weapon in my hands. At the time I thought it was an ego thing, but now I know it was a dare. He was daring me to kill him in that moment. And he knew I wouldn't do it. He knew it before I even knew it. He saw right into me and armed me, knowing that I wouldn't kill him."

Rick's face scrunched in confusion. "But he didn't see through you. He saw what you wanted him to see. You went in there pretending to be a non threat. That was the whole plan."

Carol shook off his attempts at reassurance. "No, he saw right through all that. He knew exactly who I was. He barely even addressed Tara. He decided from the second I walked into the room that I was the threat. I was the challenge. I didn't realize it at the time, but he knew I was a killer. He put that bat in my hands and dared me to bash his skull in. And I choked. I didn't do it. Now Amber and Mark are dead. We're homeless. We can never go back to Alexandria. We're on the run and we're putting our last hope on a flying saucer that may or may not exist. If I had just swung that bat, none of this would have happened."

"Hey," Rick said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "How many walkers have you killed?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "What is this, an interview?"

Rick was insistent. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Dozens. Maybe hundreds. I don't know anymore."

"And how many people have you killed?"

She finally looked him in the eye, reluctant to answer the question.

"How many?" he asked again.

"Seventeen." Her eyes went back to the ground.

Rick put a finger under her chin, encouraging her to look at him again. "Why?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "That's not an easy question. There was a different reason for each of them."

"Exactly!" Rick looked triumphant in an almost fatherly way.

Carol finally cracked a small smile at his self-satisfaction. "What do you mean 'exactly'?"

"I mean you had a reason for each of them. You have to know why you're killing someone. Otherwise there's nothing separating us from the walkers. As long as you know why you're taking someone's life, you're not one of the monsters. Negan put a weapon in your hand before you knew what he was capable of. You couldn't swing that bat because that would have made you the monster, not him."

Carol turned her gaze skyward to ponder that thought. Then she looked back to Rick, surprised by how much better he had made her feel. "Thank you, Rick. You're a good man. You're a good leader."

Rick gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Come on. We must be about ready to go." He stood and turned to offer her a hand up.

As she rose to her feet, Daryl approached. "Tara said she'd drive your car. You can ride on the bike with me since we're short on space."

Carol gave him a smile. She felt gratitude in that moment. She was grateful that in this world filled with beasts and demons she had managed to find this group of kind and caring souls. She was truly grateful for each and every one of them. As she opened her mouth to tell them as much her words were cut short. All that escaped her lips was a short, sharp breath and then a gaping nothingness. Rick and Daryl stood frozen in confusion for a moment, not understanding what was happening. Then Carol's hands raised ever so slightly, trying to make sense of the pain that ripped through her. Only then did her companions notice the tip of the spear that protruded through her belly.

Blood quickly spread down the front of Carol's shirt as she keeled forward, revealing Dwight's sinister face as he tightly gripped the other end of the spear behind her. It was a face Rick had prayed he would never see again. The faint moonlight reflected off the scar tissue covering the left side of his face, making him look inhuman.

As the realization of what just happened dawned on the two men they both raised their weapons, Rick's pistol and Daryl's crossbow. They fired simultaneously, but their ammunition found nothing but a void in the growing darkness. Dwight was no longer there. He had already been knocked onto his back. Only then did Rick and Daryl register the loud crack they had heard just a split second before they had discharged their own weapons. They turned to look over their shoulders to find Morgan standing a few paces behind them with a revolver in his trembling hand.

The group rushed forward, weapons drawn, at the sound of the commotion. Daryl kneeled down and pulled Carol's head into his lap. She was still holding onto the last thread of life. Every impulse in his body told him to pull out the spear, but he knew that would only cause her to bleed out that much faster. He wanted to believe there was some way he could save her, some way he could put her back together. But he could see by the distant look in her eyes that she was already fading.

"Don't you leave me," he choked out. It came out as a whisper, although he felt like he was screaming.

Tears streamed down the sides of her face and onto her ears as she gazed up into the face of the man who had become family to her. She and Daryl had shared a bond. They had supported and protected each other. They had helped one another grow into the warriors they had become. But now she was a fallen warrior. She reached up and placed one hand on his cheek. "I'll never leave you," she whispered. "I'm always with you. You saved me from myself. Stay strong. I'm always with you."

With those final words she slipped away. Her body went limp, finally relaxed after a lifetime of tension, of battling demons day in and day out. She finally relaxed and let out one last slow exhale. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to hers. The loss he felt was palpable. It left a cavernous emptiness inside him. She was unstoppable, indestructible. How could she be gone? He felt that as long as he held her close, faces pressed together, that she wasn't really gone. It was all a bad dream. But when he opened his eyes he saw her empty expression. He felt her body already growing cold from the loss of blood, the loss of life. She was gone. She had been taken from him and he would never be able to let that go.

He wriggled out from under her and slowly, carefully removed the spear from her body. He rolled her onto her back and gingerly closed her eyes. For just a moment he allowed himself to pretend she was sleeping. But she would never wake from this sleep. He knew that. His hand reached for the blade at his hip automatically. This is what they did for fallen comrades, for family, for friends. They made sure none of them turned. They made sure they could rest in peace.

As he pulled the knife from its sheath he felt a hand upon his shoulder. He turned and found himself staring into Mulder's piercing blue eyes. His face was somber. He hadn't known Carol long, but he could sense the bond that these two shared. He shook his head.

"You don't have to do that. She's cured."

Daryl turned back around to look at Carol's resting form. He realized Mulder was right. It seemed so foreign now after living for years in this world where the dead returned to life. She was already at peace and she would stay that way. Forever.

He returned his knife to its place and scooped Carol up off the street. She was so tiny, yet she had been so fierce. With one arm under her shoulders and the other behind her knees he turned and carried her to the RV. He would find a place for her, crowded as it might be. He needed to bury her, to give her a final resting place. But he knew they had no time for that now. If Dwight had found them, the others wouldn't be far behind.

He stepped into the RV and placed her on the bench in back. Daryl felt as if his tears may spill over, as if his sadness might consume him. He wasn't sure he could go on. But he snapped right out of it as he heard a cry outside. It was a familiar voice, but he couldn't quite place it. It came from a woman. And she had just screamed "Look out!"


	37. Chapter 37

The bullet had struck Dwight through the eye. Carl crouched over him, peering into the crater in the man's face. His hand automatically went to the bandage over his own eye. He knew how lucky he had been to have survived being shot in the face. When Enid's boyfriend, Ron, had tried to kill him the bullet had hit him in his right eye and blown out through the side of the eye socket. It never touched his brain and Denise had been able to stop the bleeding. She had put him back together again as best she could. He had survived. He still wore the bandage even though he had healed as much as he ever would. The scar tissue encompassed much of the upper right portion of his face. There was still some exposed bone, but it didn't cause him pain. He just couldn't stand to look at it. He couldn't stand the way other people avoided looking at him. So he kept it wrapped up.

Now he looked into Dwight's bloodied eye socket and was struck by how much it felt like looking in a mirror. Morgan had shot him in his left eye. A lake of blood welled up in the resulting hole. That side of his face also held the large scar from a very bad burn. Scar tissue was unlike normal skin. It was tougher, more leathery. Dwight's scar tissue peeled away from the bullet hole more cleanly than it would have if the wound had been on the other side of his face. The edges were smooth. They pulled away from the wound like the scar was trying to escape the blood and gore. It was as if that small piece of him had seen enough violence and was trying to leave.

Dwight was very much dead. But Carl knew from personal experience that this gunshot wound may not have pierced his brain. Until he knew for sure the brain was destroyed, there was always a chance Dwight could turn. Carl couldn't take that risk.

He tightened his grip on the machete in his right hand. His eyes darted to the pool of blood and the spear that lay just a few feet away. Knowing that blood belonged to Carol filled him with fury. Carl had met Carol back when he still thought his father was dead. He had been a kid at the time. She had helped take care of him, watch over him. Carol had become his family and now this man had taken her from him. He suddenly wished he had been the one to pull the trigger. He wished he could have ended Dwight's life. But he would settle for ending his second life as one of the undead.

Carl raised the machete overhead, savoring the brief moment where he could pretend that slicing into this man's brain would make him feel better. He knew it wouldn't. He would crack Dwight's head open like a ripe coconut and it wouldn't give him any satisfaction because it wouldn't bring Carol back. But for this moment, with his weapon held high, he would allow himself to make believe this would somehow fix everything.

Before he could bring the blade down into Dwight's skull he was stopped by a sudden shout. From the darkness behind him he heard a young woman's voice cry, "Look out!"

Carl turned toward the voice and saw the business end of another Savior spear coming right for him. He hit the ground and rolled out of the way just as the spear struck pavement. He found himself sprawled out on top of Dwight's chest while the angry face of another one of Negan's men glared down at him. The man reached for the spear again, but his hand stopped short. His eyes bulged and he abruptly slumped over onto Carl's lap, motionless.

Carl sat up and struggled to shove the heavy set man off of himself and saw there was a small, switchblade knife stuck in the base of his skull. Carl knew that knife. He looked up just as Enid leaned down to retrieve her blade from the Savior's head.

"You okay?" she asked him.

Carl was in shock at her sudden appearance. All he could manage to utter was, "How?"

Enid rolled the Savior off of Carl and offered him a hand up. "What do you mean how?"

Questions raced through his mind and there was no way he could ask them all. He started with a few. "How did you find us? How are you here? Where have you been all this time?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Nice to see you too. And what do you mean how did I find you? You told me exactly where you were going." She produced the piece of map she had torn off of Deanna's wall from her back pocket. Carl recognized his own handwriting next to the tiny dot marking Roxobel, North Carolina. He looked at the piece of paper and smiled, feeling validated that his message had worked. She had returned to Alexandria and his clue had led her to them. Now she had saved his life and she could be saved too.

"Don't look so smug." She folded the map and tucked it back in her pocket. She kicked the Savior she had just killed. "These guys cracked your secret code before I could get there. That's how they found you too."

Carl's face fell. Guilt flooded him like a dam breaking. He had led the Saviors right to them. He had told their pursuers exactly where they were heading. It was his fault Carol was dead. Enid noticed how pale he became as he felt all the blood drain out of his face. She was worried he was going to faint.

"Hey, keep it together. We need to warn everyone else. Negan's army is almost here."

Carl was worried he was going to throw up, but he managed to turn and yell, "Dad!"

Rick and the rest of the Alexandrians had been trying to file back into their vehicles and make a hasty exit and hadn't noticed the arrival of a second Savior or the sudden appearance of Enid. At Carl's call, Rick turned and rushed toward his son, fear sweeping over him like a wave.

"Dad," Carl called again. "They're coming. They'll be here any minute. We have to go." He wanted to confess right then and there, to tell his father that it was his fault that they had been followed. His desire to bring Enid with them on this journey had cost Carol her life. But if they didn't get back on the road fast, Carol might not be the only loved one they would lose.

Rick took one look at the panic in his son's eyes and knew that now was not the time for questions. They had to move. He turned and yelled to his people. "We have to go. Right now! The Saviors are coming. Negan is coming!"

Everyone began to jump into action, but before anyone could take more than a couple steps they all froze in their steps. A man's voice came to them through the darkness. He cleared his throat flagrantly and then exclaimed, "Correction! Negan is here!"

Rick's blood turned cold and he felt the hairs on his neck stand up like the hackles of a dog. The enemy had arrived. He turned his gun toward the darkness and the rest of his crew did the same. Carl and Enid hustled to stand alongside Rick and the rest of the Alexandrians moved in closer as well.

"Well, well, well," Negan's voice came again through the darkness. He stepped forward into the faint moonlight that shone through the trees. Immediately behind him was a wall of men, all armed, some with spears and knives, but most with guns.

Negan opened his arms wide, welcoming. "The infamous Rick Grimes, I presume."

Rick didn't move, didn't flinch. He didn't want to give anything away.

Negan looked him up and down. "Oh yeah. You're him alright. I've gone to an awful lot of trouble just to meet you. The least you could have done is introduce yourself." He had stopped just a few paces past where Dwight lay with the other dead Savior draped over him. He looked back at the carnage in that heap then looked to Rick again. "You're racking up quite a debt, Rick. That makes seven of my people you've killed. So, the way I see it, you owe me seven of your people in return."

Rick could keep silent no longer. He kept his pistol trained on Negan's head. "The way you see it is wrong."

Negan laughed a deep, resounding laugh. "You've got some balls, Rick. I'll give you that much. I disagree. The way I see it is not wrong. The way I see it is fair. You owe me seven people and I plan to collect, one way or another. Why don't you make this easier on yourself? You're outnumbered and outgunned."

Rick glanced at the Saviors who stood armed and ready behind Negan. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but it didn't look like there were that many of them. He was confident in the ability of his people. They could win this battle. "Are you sure about that?" He tried to inject an edge of cockiness in his voice, although he didn't quite feel it at the moment.

A slow grin spread across Negan's face. "Yes," he hissed. "I'm sure about that."

From somewhere behind him Rick heard the sound of shotguns racking. He didn't need to turn around to know that they had been surrounded. His stomach churned as he tried to think of a way out of this confrontation. He had to kill Negan, he knew that. But if he opened fire they would sustain casualties. Even if they could defeat Negan's men, they wouldn't all survive. There had to be another way. He had to protect his people.

Negan took another step toward Rick and his men followed suit. "Now, Rick, I know we've just met, but I'm assuming you've heard a lot about me. You must know that I am a reasonable guy. I'm a people person." His face took on that used car salesman grin and he gave Rick a little wink. "I could kill you and all your people right now, exterminate the lot of you. But I don't want to do that. You're worth more to me alive than dead. You've proven to me that you are survivors. You are fighters. I've got a lot of use for people like you. So why don't you go ahead and put the gun down?"

Rick saw Carl turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head. It was a signal to Carl, but Rick hoped Negan would take it as a simple no to his question.

"Come on, Rick." Negan went on. "I've got two men here for every one of yours. We're all armed. I understand you're a good shot, but no one is that good. Go ahead and put the gun down. We're just going to have a little talk."

"Tell your men to lower their weapons first. Then we can talk." Rick wanted to diffuse this situation somehow, but he couldn't be the first to lower his gun.

"Okay, okay. You heard the man's request." Negan addressed his men without looking away from Rick. "Go ahead and lower your weapons. I expect Rick is an honorable man and that he'll do the same." Negan's men hesitated a moment, but then pointed their guns at the ground. Rick scanned the wall of Saviors in front of him and saw no more weapons pointed in his direction. He waited a beat, trying to assert some control over the situation. Then he lowered his gun. The rest of the Alexandrians slowly did the same.

"Alright." Negan looked satisfied. "Now we can talk like men instead of savages. But first we have a debt to settle."

"You're not taking my people." Rick would not back down. His trigger finger was anxious to end this man, to carefully place a bullet right between his eyes and watch him fall to the ground before he knew what hit him. But he had to think. He had to be careful. He had to keep his family alive. He kept his gun pointed downward.

"Oh, Rick." Negan let out another bellowing laugh. "You haven't realized it yet. They're not your people anymore. They're all my people."

"Like hell!" Daryl growled from over Rick's shoulder, catching Negan's attention.

Negan took a small side step to better see Daryl. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" He sized up Daryl and then let his eyes roam over the rest of the Alexandrians standing their ground. Then his gaze locked back on Daryl. "How did such a reckless bunch of people come to find each other? Every last one of you is willing to fight to the death. I could tell Rick was a crazy son of a bitch, but all the rest of you just keeping following him along. Are you all as crazy as he is?"

Daryl never so much as blinked, but met his cold, hard stare. With hatred in his voice he responded, "Damaged people tend to gravitate toward damaged people."

For a moment Negan held his eye then he tilted his head back in laughter. "Well ain't that the goddamn truth!" he roared. When he was done laughing he looked back to Rick again. "Alright, Rick Grimes, here's the deal. And there's only going to be one deal. I'm going to pick seven of your people. They're coming with me. If they don't like it, I can kill them. But like I said, they're worth more to me alive than dead. The rest of you are going to march on back to that little suburban village of yours and you're going to start producing for me. I want food, weapons, any sort of supplies you can get your hands on. But here's the thing." He could tell Rick had some retort for him. He spoke quickly so as to not allow him a word in edgewise. "I'm collecting on your debt with interest. I'm taking seven of your people to make up for the seven you took from me. The interest is I'm going to take one more and I'm going to kill that person, right here, right now. And here's the best part." Negan raised Lucille so the tip pointed straight toward Rick's nose. Rick resisted the urge to swat it away, but he also refused to look at the thing. He looked Negan straight in the eye. "You're going to choose who it's going to be."

Rick shook his head and suppressed the instinct to raise his gun again. "No. That's not how this is going down. You're not taking anyone, you're not killing anyone, and we're not going back to Alexandria."

Negan cocked his head to one side and flipped his bat back over his shoulder. "And why is that? What could possibly be in some tiny little town in North Carolina that made you leave your little safe haven?"

Rick didn't want to give anything away. "It's not a safe haven anymore. Thanks to you."

"But why Roxobel?" Negan looked for any tell in Rick's stone-cold stare. He saw none. "If you just wanted to run away from the big bad wolf, you could have run anywhere. But you picked that place. And from the looks of your map you picked some back up locations too. So what's the draw? Why did that little town win?"

Rick had a lump in his throat that he badly wanted to swallow, but he wouldn't. He didn't want to give Negan the satisfaction. He didn't want to give even the slightest appearance of being nervous, of being weak.

Negan huffed a small, sharp breath out of his nostrils. "Fine. Keep your secret, Rick. But like I said, there will only be one deal. I've already figured out who I'd like to take with me. But since I'm a gentleman I'm going to let you pick first. Who's going to have the honor of meeting my lovely Lucille?"

Rick continued his steely stare, not backing down, not giving in.

"Okay, well I was afraid it might come to that." Negan whistled and before Rick realized what was happening his men moved in. There was a gun pointed at the head of every Alexandrian. It became painfully obvious that Negan's math had been correct. They were definitely outnumbered at least two to one. "Alright, so either you pick or I pick. But I don't think you're going to like my pick."

Rick looked around, feeling defeated. But he couldn't let Negan feel he had won. This man liked a challenge. He liked to negotiate. Rick just had to keep him talking. "You think you know so much about me? You tell me, who do you think I would pick?"

Negan chuckled. "Don't you see? It doesn't matter who I think you would pick. It only matters who I think you wouldn't pick." He stepped to his left and abruptly grabbed Carl by his shirt collar. He yanked him a couple feet forward. "This is your boy."

It should have been a question, but it was a statement. Rick was caught off guard. In the split second while he wondered how Negan had known Carl was his son he had actually answered the question Negan was unwilling to ask. Carol's words rung in Rick's mind. She had felt like Negan saw right through her. Rick was now left with the same naked sensation. It felt raw. He tried to shrug it off, but he couldn't. Of course Carl was his boy. Of course Negan had known. How foolish he had been to think he could keep anything from his enemy, his nemesis.

That wicked grin was present again on Negan's face. "Okay then. You know who I choose. It's time to see if you will make your own choice instead." He lifted his bat and rested it against Carl's shoulder. He whispered, "On your knees boy."

Something flashed through Rick's mind. Something Carol had said. Something about Negan's feelings about women and children. But he couldn't catch the thought. It flew in and out and was gone. It left him with the impression that Negan was bluffing. There was no way he was actually going to kill Carl. But then Rick saw Carl get to his knees. He saw his son obey Negan's orders. He could almost hear some sort of audible winding occurring inside his own head before something snapped. He had to protect his son.

"Me!" he yelled without meaning to. "I choose myself. Kill me. Let the boy go."

Negan's head moved, but nothing else. His fist still gripped Carl by the collar of his shirt. His weapon was still cradled in the corner between the young man's shoulder and neck. But his head whipped quickly to the right to face Rick.

A harsh _tsk, tsk_ sound escaped Negan's lips. "Rick, I'm sorry. Did I forget to mention? There's one rule to this deal. You have to choose, but you're not allowed to choose yourself. You see, you're too valuable to me. These people," Negan said, his eyes scanning the furious crowd before him. "These people listen to you. No matter what I do they will keep listening to you. If I kill you, they become unpredictable. They become an unknown. I don't like unknowns. I'm something of an expert on eliminating unknowns. But if I keep you alive, if they see your stoic face, hear your inspiring words, they will do as you say. All I have to do is make sure that you do as I say. So I'm going to ask you one more time. Who should I kill?"

From the middle of the crowd a woman's voice called out. "Me! If you have to kill someone, kill me."

All heads turned to see who had spoken those words. The eyes fell on Scully standing in the middle of the pack of Alexandrians, hands raised in surrender, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"No!" Mulder barked as he reached his hand toward her. The Savior with a gun pressed against his temple leaned in harder to stop him from reaching her.

"Yes!" Scully protested. "If you have to kill someone to justify whatever debt you think you're owed, then take me. But know this!" She had captured Negan's attentioned. It was exactly what she had been counting on. He was entirely enthralled. He loosened his grip on Carl and didn't even notice when he slipped away and dragged Enid back into the crowd. The leader of the Saviors waited for Dana Scully to continue.

And she did. "If you kill me you're killing the cure." She paused and waited for the question she knew he would be unable to stop himself from asking, no matter how weak it made him appear.

And he asked, "What cure?"

"We have a cure. To this. To all of this." Scully swept her arms wide to indicate the world they lived in, the undead monsters that roamed the Earth, the fall of civilization, the end of humankind.

Negan didn't believe. "There is no cure. I've seen things. I've learned things. There is no cure."

"There wasn't." Scully countered. "Everyone believed there wasn't. But we have it. And we have proof. But now there's a new deal on the table."

Negan squinted at her, unsure. He couldn't believe what he was positive must be a lie. Yet he couldn't bring himself to interrupt her. He wanted to believe what she said was true; that there was a cure.

Scully looked deep into his eyes, drawing him in. Luring him. "There will be only one deal." There was venom in her voice and it stung him. He knew in that moment he would do anything to acquire the cure if what she said was true.

Scully took a calm, measured breath before she said, "Here's the deal: the cure for all our lives."


	38. Chapter 38

"Bring her to me." It came out as little more than a whisper. But in the silence of the standoff everyone heard Negan's words. The Savior holding Scully hostage ushered her forward, but she walked willingly, more angry than afraid.

The idea of a cure washed over him. It was something he'd spent a lot of time thinking about. For a time Negan thought a cure would mean the end of his newfound world. The outbreak had given him power, authority. It had given him a chance to show what he was made of. In the world before he was no one of any consequence. He was just another pawn. He commanded no one. He just survived day-to-day life in a time when survival meant nothing.

But then the world turned and left him here. He was built for this. This was his world now. He owned it and all the people left in it. He knew how to survive in this new time when survival suddenly meant everything.

In a way he feared a cure. He couldn't go back to the way things were. He couldn't go back to the world before. He didn't fear death. He didn't even fear being undead. He sometimes pictured himself as one of the roamers, still running around creating mayhem even after his consciousness was long gone. He liked to imagine he feared nothing, that he was immune to the terror he loved so much to strike in others. There was nothing that made him tremble in his boots. But if he were being truly honest with himself, Negan was afraid of falling from command. There was no worse fate he could imagine than being controlled by someone else. He'd rather die than watch someone else rise to power.

But the cure was power. If this woman was telling the truth and could give the cure to him, that was power. That was invincibility. That was a bargaining chip he had never been able to play. And now he very badly wanted to possess it.

He allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to hold the cure in his hands; to be able to give it or take it away. How quickly would people bend to his will if they knew he had the ability to cure them, to rid them of this cancer that had infected everyone.

If the tables were turned, if he had the cure and Rick didn't, this whole altercation would have gone down a lot differently. It wouldn't have come to this roadside showdown. No, Rick would have submitted like a good little puppy dog. He would have been brought to heel. But that wasn't the case. He didn't hold that power yet. However, if this woman was telling the truth, if the cure was real, he would have it soon enough. He wouldn't get to exercise that power over Rick, which was a shame. But there would always be another group of wayward souls to bend to his will. There would always be another Rick Grimes.

She stood before him now, big glassy eyes staring up at him with such fire, such hate. The tears she had shed left grimy trails down her cheeks. But the tears were dry now. Oh yes, she was a fiery one alright. She wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting another tear fall. She would want to appear strong, to at least be in control of her emotions. That was fine. He could let her have that small victory. Afterall, it was just about the only thing she could exercise control over at this moment. He wished he could do the same. He wished he hadn't betrayed his interest in her cure. He knew he lost that battle by summoning her to stand here in front of him. But it didn't matter. If what she said was true and if the cure was something she could give to him, then no show of weakness would matter. His power would increase ten fold. Soon enough.

"So, my little martyr" he spat, sizing her up. "You claim there's a cure? You claim you have proof? Let's see it."

"Let's be clear." Her voice was calm but there was heat behind her eyes. She was incensed. "I'm not your little martyr. I'm not _your_ anything."

A witty remark was on the tip of Negan's tongue, but he swallowed it. He needed to hear what she had to say. He stood, motionless, waiting for her to continue.

Scully waited just long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable. Then she went on. "There is a cure. It's in my DNA." She was still deciding in the back of her mind how much to reveal. She needed him to believe her, but she was unwilling to show her whole hand. "You have one half of a gene pairing in your DNA. I have both halves. If I give you the other half you will be cured." She waited, deciding to let him ask questions. She didn't want to volunteer too much.

Negan looked to Rick, thinking he might be easier to read than the woman before him. Rick's face gave away nothing. He looked back to Scully. "And you're the only one with this DNA?"

"No, I've given the missing gene to everyone in Alexandria. They're all cured. But it's been in my DNA the longest. It's had a chance to replicate, which means I'm the best candidate for harvesting the DNA to give to others." Somewhere in the middle of the pack Enid shuddered and glanced at Carl. She was hearing this information for the first time.

"Why should I believe you?" Negan snapped. He felt flustered by the way he couldn't read her. He wanted to look into her face and know that she was lying. But when he peered into those eyes he saw no lie. Either this woman was telling the truth or she had the best poker face he had ever seen. Still, he wasn't going to just take her at her word.

"I have proof, if you'll let me get it. It's in the car."

Negan hesitated. This reeked of a trap. But his curiosity won out. With a tilt of his head he indicated for her to proceed to the vehicle. He followed her close behind and was flanked by two other Saviors. Scully opened the door and leaned into the back of the car in which she had been riding. Mulder still held the documents precious and refused to let them be stowed in the trunk. She grabbed a marked folder out of the middle of the stack. It contained the documents about the alien landing, the government experiments, the effects of _arcA_ and _arcB_. She was careful to leave behind all the documents relating to the government's plan to evacuate Earth as well as the possible existence of the ARVs. That much she could never let Negan know.

As she clutched the folder her hand grazed a handgun that had been tucked under the front seat. The cold steel sent a chill up her arm. An image flashed through her mind of grabbing the gun, turning, and firing. With the element of surprise she could surely kill the man holding them all captive. But how many more seconds would she live before his men turned on her, turned on all of them. It would be a bloodbath. No. That wasn't how this would play out. She had a plan. She just had to pull it off.

She closed her eyes and pushed the thought of the gun to the corner of her mind. She turned and handed the folder to Negan. She wasn't sure what kind of proof he was expecting, but apparently he wasn't expecting a stack of paperwork. He cocked an eyebrow and asked, "What the hell is this?"

"That's our proof," Scully replied, extending the folder a little closer to him. He still didn't take it from her. She pulled it back. "Would you like me to read it to you?" Her purposely condescending tone was enough to get him to snatch the papers from her hand.

Negan began flipping through the folder, scanning pages rather than reading them. He huffed as he turned each page, probably annoyed that she had seemingly given him a homework assignment. Then he paused. Something had caught his eye. She couldn't be sure, but Scully was willing to bet it was an alien autopsy photo. He spun the folder this way and that, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Then she saw the ideas start to click into place in his head.

"The DNA is…" He trailed off.

"Alien DNA." Scully finished for him. This was it. He was either going to believe her or he was going to call her a quack and likely kill them all. She held her breath.

He asked, "Aliens? From outerspace?" Scully nodded, still not breathing. Negan lowered the folder and took a step back to see her in full view. "Who are you?"

Scully exhaled. She had hooked him. She knew it. Now she just had to keep him on the line. She explained that she was an FBI agent and a doctor. She told him about the X-files and the sort of work they had done. She explained about the alien lifeform discovered after the crash in Roswell. She gave him an overview of the experiments, the unwilling test subjects, the alien-human hybrids. She told him about the discovery of _arcA_ and its response to aluminum-phosphide gas. She described to him how _arcA_ and _arcB_ work together to prevent the shutdown of the immune system. She carefully left out the information about _arcB_ being necessary to survive the atmosphere of the alien planet which they were trying to reach. She explained to him how she could capture the alien DNA from her own blood, how she could inject it into Negan and his men, how he could then harvest his own DNA and give it to others as he saw fit. By the end of her explanation they were both sitting on the ground with the papers spread out in front of them. The moon had risen higher in the sky to illuminate the patch of road they occupied.

She looked around at the group who had listened with rapt attention to her every word. She had definitely convinced most of the Saviors. The question was, had she convinced Negan? She waited for him to respond.

"Is this it?" he finally asked. Scully's heart skipped a beat. Had she failed? Did he not believe? She didn't answer right away, waiting for him to elaborate on his question. He did. "Is this all your proof? Just a bunch of papers?" He sounded angry, insulted.

Scully examined him, his eyes, his body language, the look of hope mixed with skepticism on his face. To her horror she saw a little bit of herself in him. He was in the state of mind she had often found herself in back in her X-files days. He was teetering on the edge between wanting to believe and believing. She needed something to push him over the edge, to make a believer out of him.

"You want something more concrete?" He didn't respond. His gaze drilled into her, waiting for her to offer him something more. Her mind was whirring like a well oiled machine. She had to come up with something. An idea sprang to mind. "Carol."

"Carol?" Negan questioned.

"Dwight killed her."

The slight tick in his jaw told her that he hadn't known that fact. She had assumed he had already been waiting in the darkness, watching them. Maybe he was still approaching when Carol met her demise. Maybe he simply hadn't paid attention. Whatever the case, he was surprised, but he tried not to let it show.

He quickly covered his stunned look with one of annoyance. "And?"

"And he stabbed her with a spear through the abdomen." Scully could tell he still wasn't understanding what she was getting at. "Nothing ever pierced her brain, but she has the cure. She has the _arcB_ genome so she won't turn. You could go look at her right now if you want. She hasn't turned."

Negan looked over his shoulder at the puddle of blood next to Dwight's body and thought it over. "No. That's not proof. I've seen it take as much as two days for someone to turn. I have no intention of waiting on the side of the road here until Tuesday to see if she wakes up hungry." His voice was taking on its original tone of power and control. He had spent too long listening to her talk, admitting she knew something he didn't. It didn't come naturally to him. He was starting to reject her explanation simply because it would put him back control. If he could declare all her proof to be nothing more than lies, then he took away her last bit of leverage.

She was about to lose him.

As her mind searched for another way to prove herself to him, a stirring came from the crowd behind Negan. All the Saviors and all the Alexandrians had been so quiet through her entire explanation it was hard to believe there were upwards of 70 people standing on the road in the still night air. The stirring came as a shuffling of feet followed by a hissing growl. It was a sound they all knew far too well. There was a walker in their midst.

Negan and Scully both lept to their feet and the sea of bystanders parted to reveal a writhing mass on the pavement. In the darkness it was hard to focus, to see what caused the commotion. Then it suddenly became clear. It was Dwight, returned from the dead, pinned under the other recently departed Savior. His feet kicked and his arms flailed, fingernails scraping the pavement. His apparently intact brain was no more than a ball of animal instinct, not understanding what force kept him from reaching his prey.

Finally his fingers gained purchase and he sat upright, rolling the dead Savior onto his lap. As he sat up the pool of blood that had filled his eye socket drained down his face in a river of red. In the faint light Scully could catch a small glint of moonlight off of the bullet that was still lodged in his face. It had been enough to kill him, but just as Carl had feared, it hadn't reached his brain.

A spear toting Savior moved in to eliminate the threat. As he drew back his weapon, ready to strike, Negan called out, "Wait!" The spear stopped in midair. Everyone froze except for the body that once belonged to Dwight, still scrambling to get out from under the corpse that detained him.

A cheshire cat grin spread across Negan's face as he repeated in a whisper, "Wait." He spun around to face Scully. "This is your chance to prove yourself, sweetheart"

Scully's instinct was to insist she was not his sweetheart, but she didn't want to risk losing him when she felt he was so close to believing, to accepting her bargain. Instead she focused on the challenge he was issuing. "What do you want me to do?" The look in his eye told her he was himself once more. He had found the sense of control he so badly needed in order to feed his ego. He was about to start barking orders and making demands.

"Prove your cure works. Cure my recently deceased friend here." He extended his bat to indicate Dwight without breaking eye contact with Scully.

She looked over his shoulder at Dwight, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. Surely he couldn't be serious. Perhaps he just didn't understand. "It doesn't work that way. This cure, this genome, it can't bring the dead back to life."

"But it should stop him, shouldn't it?" It wasn't much of a question, more of an insistence. Scully understood. This was the challenge he was giving her. She had to use Dwight to prove her cure was real.

"Well," she said, stepping a little closer to Dwight, examining him. "DNA can only bond with living tissue. The only part of him that's still technically living is his brain. I would have to inject it directly into his brain tissue."

"And you have the DNA ready, on hand?" he asked.

She didn't hesitate for split second. "Yes." It was the first boldfaced lie she had told him. She had withheld some evidence from him. But up to that point everything she had revealed had been the truth. The fact was that she had used every last sample of _arcB_ on her comrades before they had left Alexandria. There wasn't a single vial left. The rest of her group knew this. She braced herself, waiting for one of them to flinch, to give away her falsehood. No one did.

"Well then what are you waiting for?" His impatience told Scully that she still had him on the hook. She just had to reel him in.


	39. Chapter 39

"I just need a vial and a syringe. They're in the RV." Negan nodded and followed Scully into the Winnebago, still suspecting some sort of trap. As Scully pulled open the door she had a sudden moment of doubt. What if the cure wasn't real? What if it didn't work? What if Carol had actually turned while they all stood outside and was waiting to feast on the two of them?

But that didn't happen. Scully pulled open the door and stepped inside to find Carol laying peacefully on the bench near the back of the vehicle. If it weren't for the blood covering her torso, it would have looked as though she was just sleeping.

Carol's presence actually proved a useful distraction for Negan as Scully rummaged through the crates that had been packed in alongside all the passengers. She needed to find the boxes from the infirmary. Negan couldn't take his eyes off the deceased woman, wanting to confirm that she was still, in fact, dead. It gave him hope that this cure was real to see the first Alexandrian he had ever met resting in peace. But he knew that could all be a lie. She could still turn. It proved nothing. In his mind he relived the brief experiences he'd had with this woman. She had bested him once, but clearly he had the last laugh. He would have liked to see her die, to see the fear in her eyes when she realized he had come for her, that she had lost. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that she was dead. He had won.

He was snapped out of his reverie by Scully. "Okay, I've got it." In her hands she clutched not one vial, but a black canvas bag filled with vials. She also had a box of syringes tucked under her arm. She pushed past him and stepped back onto the pavement.

Negan trailed after her, once again feeling like he had lost control of the situation. "What's all that?"

Scully gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? This is the cure. This is what you wanted."

"You haven't proven anything yet, sister," he snarled.

She shot him a confident smile, which only annoyed him further. "I will." She set her bag down near where Rick still stood, clearly anxious for this whole altercation to be over. As she loaded up one of the syringes with some of the clear fluid from one of the vials, she was struck by what a strong leader Rick was. Of course she had seen him in action. She had seen him lead his people on this journey. She had seen the way he inspired people. But now she realized he had something a lot of leaders don't have. He had faith in his people. He must have known she had some sort of a plan, although she had no way of communicating that to him. He had simply allowed her to take over the negotiations, fully trusting that she knew what she was doing. It showed he had faith in her, that she was truly one of his people.

Scully tried to give Rick a reassuring look as she turned to approach Dwight. He was being held down by the boots of four Saviors. He had awakened weak, as most walkers did. But he was gaining strength. She looked down at the corpse before her, her next patient. She turned to Negan by her side. "Before I do this, do you accept the deal?"

"Your deal?" Negan scoffed.

"Yes, my deal. The only deal. If this works, if he drops dead, then we trade. You get the cure. We all get to leave. Alive."

He stood up a little taller and looked down his nose at her. He wanted this cure. He wanted to possess it, to feel it coursing through his veins. He wanted to control it. But he couldn't let her see how badly he craved it. He couldn't give her that satisfaction. It wasn't in his nature. "We'll see if this works first. Then we'll talk."

"No." Scully was firm. "You agree right now. If this works on Dwight you agree to accept the cure and let us go. Otherwise Rick is going to smash all those vials and the cure will be off the table."

He held her gaze, locked in a staring contest, each of them unwilling to blink. Negan lost. He looked away, his head involuntarily swiveling to see the bag of glass vials resting dangerously close to Rick's boots. Scully knew in that moment that she had him. He would agree to anything to possess her DNA. "Deal," he muttered under his breath.

She wanted to make him repeat it, to say it like he meant it. But she thought she better quit while she was ahead. "Good. Now," Scully said, drawing his attention away from the bag. "I'm going to need you to hold him very still."

Negan circled around Dwight's body and crouched over his head. A boot on either shoulder kept him from lunging too close, but Negan had to hold him perfectly still. He looked into the face of the man who had been an awful lot of trouble to him. Negan remembered the moment he had given Dwight his scar. He had told him at that time that he would wear his mistake until his death. Negan hadn't realized at that time how soon his death would come. He readied himself and then quickly grabbed Dwight on either side of his face, holding him firmly in place.

Scully kneeled down beside him, her pulse quickening as she prayed this would work. She pulled on a latex glove, more out of habit than for sanitary reasons. Sanitation was a joke in this world. She dug into his eye socket and pulled out the bullet, revealing blood that was already starting to congeal and a tiny spot of familiar pinkish grey. She could see his brain. Sure enough, it was intact. The bullet had been stopped by a bone fragment just shy of that soft spot that would have ended his misery then and there.

She demanded more light. She almost felt like she was in an operating room again, requesting a scalpel from an assistant and speaking notes into her audio recorder. Someone came forth with a flashlight and pointed it into Dwight's gaping wound. Scully leaned in close and, with great care, inserted the tiniest bit of the tip of the syringe into Dwight's brain. She was careful not to puncture the tissue too violently. Otherwise it would prove nothing. It would be no different than stabbing him with a knife. She needed to keep the brain protected long enough for the contents of her needle to do its work. The corpse hissed and protested at the poking and prodding, but she was able to squeeze the clear liquid into his brain and it seemed to absorb. Scully withdrew the needle and stood up. "That should do it," she declared.

Negan let go of Dwight's face and jumped back. His face fell in disappointment as he watched Dwight continue to thrash against his captors. "It didn't work." He looked to Scully. "You lied." He spit the accusation at her with such venom she thought he might strike her. But she stood her ground.

"Patience," she told him, "is a virtue."

Patience was not Negan's strong suit. They waited in an impossibly tense silence. Scully swore she could hear the beating hearts of everyone surrounding the undead Dwight. Her own pulse pounded in her ears and sweat dotted her palms even though the night had gone cold. It all came down to this. Just as she was starting to suspect that her plan may have failed, silence fell. Dwight let out one last low growl that faded into nothingness. Nothing moved. No one spoke. It was a perfect absence of sound.

Scully breathed a small sigh of relief and then addressed Negan. He had agreed to her deal, now that she had proven herself she would impose her terms. "Satisfied?" She didn't give him time to answer. "Good. Here's what's going to happen. Me and my fellow doctor are going to administer arcB to each of you right here, right now. You'll have to sit very still for five to ten minutes so it can be absorbed by your system. After that you can take all of it that's left over. You can take one of our microscopes. I'll show you how to harvest the DNA from yourself and how to administer it to anyone else you see fit. Then we go our separate ways."

Negan didn't like her calling the shots, but he felt like that was a pill he had to swallow for now. She had proven her injection worked. He believed. Now he needed this power. He needed the vials she possessed and the knowledge she was going to share. But he couldn't just let her bark orders at him. His pride wouldn't allow that. His ego wouldn't allow that. "If we all have to sit still you're all going to have to do the same. I want every one but the doctors face down on the ground. No funny business."

Scully nodded her agreement. The Alexandrians all lined up along the roadside away from the vehicles. They were stripped of their weapons before they deposited themselves on the ground, bellies to the pavement. Maggie alone was allowed to stay seated with Judith on her lap and William in her arms. Likewise, the Saviors all lined up to receive a dose of the miraculous cure. Negan opted to receive his dose last. Scully doubted he was trying to be polite. He most likely wanted to make sure Scully wasn't trying to pull a fast one.

"Now remember," Scully said to Denise. "It has to be injected between the C2 and C3 vertebrae." Denise nodded, although she had no idea what Scully was planning. She knew as well as everybody else that they had injected all the Alexandrians in the arm and no one had to sit still for ten minutes. But she trusted Scully and she wasn't going to let her curiosity betray her.

Negan's curiosity, however, was getting the better of him. "How do you know which vertebrae to hit." He needed to know how to do this if he was going to wield the full power of the cure.

"I'll show you. You can do the first injection." Scully took on the tone she used to use when training med students. She knew he had no training in this, so she would make it as simple as she could. Negan selected the first Savior up to bat and he sat on the ground with his back to Scully and Negan. Scully showed him how to push on the spine, to count the protruding vertebrae, the angle at which to insert the needle. Negan filled a syringe with 10ml of the clear solution and injected it into his fellow man. The Savior gave a sharp inhale when the needle pierced his skin, but was otherwise unaffected. When Negan was done Scully gave the man a pat on the shoulder and told him, "Sit still and relax. Let the DNA do its job."

Denise and Scully took over and, two by two, administered injections to the nearly 50 Saviors in this army. Negan was last.

"Are you ready?" Scully asked.

Negan looked at his men seated on the ground, some laying down, all looking very calm and serene. That's the power of this cure, he thought to himself. It's peace of mind in a bottle. And that would be why everyone was going to want what he had. He gave Scully a curt nod. "Let's do this."

She indicated for him to take a seat. She filled a syringe just for him, adding an extra 5ml just for good measure. "This might sting a little," she warned as she pushed on his neck, counting his vertebrae. As she carefully inserted the needle into his spine and depressed the plunger she caught sight of the nervous look she was getting from Denise. She quickly looked away.

Scully circled around and crouched on the ground in front of Negan. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," was all he offered as a response.

She wanted to keep him talking. "Just out of curiosity, what will you do with the cure? Will you give it to the rest of your people?"

"All of them who earn it." Negan was a fair man. He prided himself on that. Loyalty earned rewards with him just as disobedience earned punishment.

"And these men," Scully continued, looking at the Saviors who were now mostly all lying down. "Have they all earned it?"

Negan didn't look at them. "They're here, aren't they? They followed me this far. They've done as I've asked. They've earned it."

"I supposed they have." Scully mentally ticked off seconds in her head. She leaned in closer so she could be sure he would see nothing but her eyes peering back into his. "Tell me, Negan, now how do you feel?"

"Fine," he uttered once more.

Scully gave him a small smile and a little pat on the cheek. "Good. Just relax." She set the vial at his feet and stood to walk away from him, catching Denise by the elbow and pointing her back toward the Alexandrians.

Negan felt good. He felt relaxed. He wondered if this is what alien DNA was supposed to feel like. He rolled his head around, letting the tension in his neck release. As he rolled it forward his eyes fell upon his own lap. The needle Scully had used for his injection was stuck in his thigh, right through his pants. He couldn't make any sense of it. He didn't feel it. Why didn't he feel it? His eyes then shot to the vial she had set before him. In the dim light he tried to read the print on the label. It read "bupivacaine." The word meant nothing to him. He tried to reach for it, but found he couldn't. He couldn't control his limbs, couldn't feel anything from the neck down.

He looked up and saw Scully helping Rick off the ground, whispering something to him in hushed tones. "What have you done?" he called after her.

Scully looked back at him, but didn't answer his question. Rage bubbled up inside him like black tar, threatening to take over his whole being. He asked again, louder this time, "What have you done?"

She turned and walked back to Negan. She crouched in front of him again, knowing full well he would reach out and tear her to pieces if only he had the use of his arms. "I gave you an epidural from hell. That's what I've done."

He searched her eyes and finally declared, "There never was a cure, was there?"

"Oh, yes, there is a cure. That much is true. But I think I agree with you on something, Negan." She pulled the syringe from his leg and let it fall to the ground. "The cure is only for those who earn it."


	40. Chapter 40

Rick Grimes stood as still as a scarecrow in the middle of the road, frozen in a state of inaction. He was only vaguely aware of the commotion buzzing all around him. His people were retrieving their weapons, gathering the Saviors' guns and spears, shuffling off into vehicles, trying to organize for their departure. Negan sat on the ground several yards away, motionless from the shoulders down. This stillness of his body was in stark contrast with the animated nature of his head and face. Negan was yelling, screaming, spit flying off his lips. The man was in a rage.

But as Rick stood, staring through the darkness toward his enemy, he couldn't hear the man's rant. He couldn't hear much of anything at all. It was no more than white noise, a muffled twittering. All of it was just a blur of buzzing nonsense. He couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't understand that he was a part of it all.

He knew he should be doing something. There was an impulse growing inside of him to take action, to move forward, to lead. Yet he couldn't make his feet take that first step. He felt as helpless and immobile as Negan. Was he in shock? He had been through so many emotions in a very short period of time; grief, fear, defeat, relief.. Maybe his mind couldn't figure out how to feel just now. Maybe he needed to feel nothing just now.

Through the muffled haze he heard his own name. Someone was calling him back to the present. But it sounded like it came from a great distance away. "Rick. Rick!" like screaming underwater. It couldn't draw him out of his fog.

"Dad!"

Rick snapped out of it, back to reality. Carl stood before him. "Dad, you have to decide." He sounded impatient, desperate.

"Decide?" Rick asked, still trying to focus on the scene playing out on the roadside.

Scully was there too. Maybe she had been the one calling his name. He couldn't be sure. She was telling him something important. He tried to focus. "They'll be numb from the injection site down. It would normally last about two hours, but the medication is expired. It might wear off sooner."

"Dad, what should we do?"

"About him?" Rick pointed to Negan, seated impotently on the ground, spewing something about how they were all going to pay for this.

"About all of them." Carl indicated all the Saviors sprawled out on the pavement, rendered limp by Scully's injection of bupivacaine. It was a spinal nerve block, usually used for emergency cesarean delivery of a baby. Scully had repurposed it in the most genius way imaginable. "Should we kill them?"

Rick suddenly understood what was being asked of him. It was the same decision they had faced back in Alexandria: kill Negan and his army or run for the spaceship. His people had made the decision for him last time. They had decided to evacuate. But that was when battling Negan meant risking their own lives. Now it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Still, he felt unsure, hesitant.

He looked at the faces surrounding him, waiting for his orders. Many people were already loaded into the caravan. He was left standing in the road with Carl and Michonne by his side. Scully stood in front of him, anxiously glancing over her shoulder at Negan. Mulder and Daryl stood alongside her. Morgan and Glenn stood behind Rick, also waiting for Rick's reply.

Rick looked to Daryl, his right hand man, for guidance. "What do you think?"

"Execute them." Daryl had no hesitation. "All of them."

"No." Glenn took a step forward to stand next to Rick.

"They killed Carol!" Daryl's grief had taken on the form of anger.

Glenn was respectful, but calm. "No. Dwight killed Carol and he's already dead because of it. Carol was my family too, but she wouldn't have wanted this. She and Tara went into Negan's compound and they found good people, people they thought were worth saving. Some of these men out here are good people who just fell in with the wrong leader. You can't kill them for that."

Daryl let out a frustrated sigh. He knew Glenn was right, but that left him with no outlet for this rage that was threatening to boil over.

"Just him then." Rick raised his hand, thumb and forefinger pointed like a gun, right at Negan's head.

"Rick, you can't do that." Morgan was determined to talk him out of killing again.

Rick spun around to face him. "Why shouldn't I?"

Morgan shook his head, his fierce eyes locked on Rick. "Because killing is not the answer."

Rick looked incredulous. "You just killed Dwight yourself. The freshest blood here is on your hands."

"Don't you see? Carol tried to kill Dwight, so he came back and killed her. I killed Dwight for killing Carol and Negan tried to kill one of us as payback. Death only brings about more death. It's like blowing feathers into the wind. They come right back to you. You have the power to stop this cycle. Just walk away, Rick. Just walk away."

Rick looked back over his shoulder at Negan, still issuing empty threats. "Carol would have killed him."

"But Carol's dead." Morgan raised his hands in concession as Daryl took an aggressive step toward him. "I'm sorry she's gone, but the fact remains, you shouldn't take advice from a dead woman." Rick still looked unconvinced. Morgan continued. "Rick, you love asking people how many people they've killed, but I'm willing to bet you lost track of your own number a long time ago. Let me ask you one of your own questions. Why do you want to kill that man."

Rick wore a guilty expression as he fumbled for an answer. He had lost track of the number of people he had killed. He had become numb to it. "He tried to take our people. He tried to kill one of our people. Carol died on his orders."

"So revenge, then? That's your reason?" Morgan questioned.

"Isn't that reason enough?" Rick felt it was. He had killed men for a lot less.

"It's a fine reason, Rick, as long as you can live with yourself afterward.. But if your goal is to punish him by sending him to hell, then I invite you to take a look around. This is hell on Earth. Leave him here with the monsters. He doesn't deserve to be put out of his misery."

Rick closed his eyes. This was a battle he and Morgan had been having for months. Rick still didn't agree. He didn't believe all life is precious as Morgan did. He believed some life was evil and deserved to die. But if he killed purely out of revenge then how could he be so sure he wasn't part of that evil? Morgan was right. Being left to walk this planet with the zombies was a fate worse than death.

He opened his eyes and turned to face Daryl. He felt the pain of Carol's loss worse than all of them. Rick could walk away from his revenge, but he wouldn't ask Daryl to do the same. Not if he didn't agree. With his eyes, he silently asked Daryl what he wanted to do.

Daryl paced back and forth a few times, restless, like a caged animal. He paused and looked at the pathetic sight of Negan, helpless on the asphalt. Then he looked to Morgan, to the pleading look in the man's eyes. Finally he looked back to Rick, his leader, his friend. He issued a long, labored breath. He tried to push the rage out of his lungs. "Screw him. Let's go."

With that Daryl marched off toward his motorcycle. Mulder and Scully followed suit. As Scully walked past Rick on her way to the car she placed a hand on his shoulder and reminded him, "Two hours, tops."

Michonne and Carl also headed back to the convoy. Michonne briefly placed a reassuring hand on the back of Rick's neck as she walked by, letting him know she supported him. He knew this was the right thing to do. Rick was left standing in the road with Morgan and Glenn. Morgan gave Rick a look of pride and satisfaction. "You made the right choice. Now we need to go."

Rick looked over his shoulder at Negan once more. "I need to do one more thing." He took a few long strides through the darkness to reach Negan's spot on the pavement. He placed his hands on his knees, leaning in a little too close for comfort to address his greatest enemy. Hopefully this man would be Rick's last enemy on Earth.

Negan growled, feeling betrayed by his own limp body. "Was this your plan all along? You lured us all the way out here just to dope us up and kill us?"

Rick shook his head. "No. The plan was to outrun you. All this," Rick indicated the lineup of powerless Saviors. "All this was just an added bonus." He gave Negan a wicked grin, which only angered him further. "And you're wrong about another thing. I'm not going to kill you."

For a second Negan thought he was kidding. Then he realized Rick was serious and spat out a menacing laugh. "You're dumber than I thought, Rick. If you don't kill me right now then you've signed your own death warrant."

"I told you already. You're not taking any of my people and you're not killing anyone. I could kill you right now, but I think leaving you alive to stew over your own mistakes is a much more fitting form of justice." Rick wanted Negan to understand that he had lost, that leaving him alive didn't mean Rick was admitting defeat.

Rick's calm demeanor and exercise of control had the desired effect. Negan couldn't stand the shift in power. He couldn't stand being subjected to someone else's whim.. "My only mistake was not killing that bitch, Carol, myself."

That struck a nerve. Without thinking Rick's clenched fist ripped through the short distance between the two enemies. As his knuckles made contact with Negan's face a spout of blood shot forth from the man's nose. His head wrenched back. Without the use of his arms he couldn't catch himself. One well aimed punch and Negan was flat on his back, staring up at the moon through the tree branches. His comment had been intended to set Rick off, to shift the control back to Negan's side. Negan felt a small surge of exhilaration as he realized he had made Rick lose his cool. But it was a hollow victory given that he was now even more powerless than before. He couldn't even look Rick in the eye.

Negan was able to turn his head just enough to see Rick standing straight and turning to leave him there in the dust. His fury returned. He screamed after Rick. "I'll have your head for this, Rick Grimes! I'll have your undead head on a pike!" When Rick didn't react Negan tried one last tactic to assert some type of authority over the man who had rendered him so helpless. "What's in Roxobel, Rick?"

Rick noticeably flinched at the mention of the town's name.

Negan smiled. Rick had him beat, but as long as he could get a reaction out of the man who had bested him he felt like the victor. That tiny flinch was enough to keep him going. He would recover. He would hunt down his nemesis and he would make him pay for what he had done.

Glenn saw Rick's hesitation and became insistent. "Rick, we need to go. Now."

Rick felt the urgency. He needed to get his crew on the road. But he found he couldn't move. He couldn't take one step further from Negan. He was frozen.

Negan repeated, "What's in Roxobel? Why are you so dead set on getting there?" His taunting was interrupted by the familiar snarling hiss of an approaching walker. Negan's blood went cold as the full impact of his vulnerability sunk in. He and his men were sitting ducks.

Rick marched back and stood over Negan, his face framed in a halo of moonlight. "You're going to forget about Roxobel." The walker was approaching out of the trees. "You're not going to follow us." The beast marched closer. "You're not going to search for us." Closer. "You're never going to set foot in Roxbel." The corpse was only a few yards away. "You're going to go back to where you came from with your tail between your legs and you're going to forget you ever knew the name Rick Grimes."

Negan couldn't answer, couldn't give Rick the satisfaction, but he was in no position to argue. His bargaining chips were all long gone. Rick took his silence as agreement. As the monster arrived within arms reach he raised his gun and fired a single bullet right through the its forehead. As it began to fall back, Rick reached out and caught the walker by the shredded collar of its filthy shirt, pulling the now lifeless body forward. It landed with a sickening thud right on top of Negan's useless body.

Rick leaned in again to put his face in Negan's line of sight. "I just spared your life. Don't you forget it." With that, Rick turned and walked away from his archenemy for what he hoped would be the last time.


	41. Chapter 41

As the sun threatened to peek over the horizon, Daryl rolled off the throttle and brought his bike to a stop just past a green sign with white lettering. It read "Roxobel City Limit." Daryl felt "city" was an ambitious word for the place. The sign didn't state the population. It was probably unnecessary. It looked like the type of sleepy little town where everyone knew everyone.

The town was shaped like a dogeared postcard and was just about as flat. If it weren't for the trees and the scattered houses and buildings you could probably see straight through onto the next town. There were no track homes here. Every unique little house looked like an afterthought, randomly plunked down on a plot of dried grass. All the homes were in a decrepit state now, but it was probably a very quaint place to live once. The term one-stop-light town came to mind. As Daryl gazed down the disintegrating road stretching out past overgrown yards and crumbling houses he figured this was probably a no-stop-light town.

The rest of the caravan had come to a halt behind him. As he straddled his idling motorcycle, examining the place they had come to see, Rick, Abraham, and Mulder came out to stand alongside him. The group had arrived at their destination. The next part of their plan was a blur at best.

Daryl cut the engine. "So, we're here. What's next?" He was feeling a little disenchanted with the place already.

Mulder's excitement at being so close to their goal was evident on his face. "We need to locate the facility. The one I saw in New Mexico was a giant hangar. But the ship itself would have fit in a decent sized warehouse. We should look for something like that."

Abraham looked stern. "I probably don't need to remind you that time is of the essence."

Rick didn't need a reminder. "The whole town is only one square mile. It can't be that hard to find a building big enough to house this thing." Abraham looked up and down the road doubtfully. Rick read between the lines. "You think I should have killed him?" It wasn't a threat or a challenge, just an honest question.

Abraham wasn't one to question Rick's decisions. He was a military man through and through. He was used to accepting orders. But still, he was anxious. "I'm sure you had your reasons, Rick. All I know is if I find a spider in my house I smash the thing. I don't wait for it to crawl into my bed at night and bite me in the ass. I'm just saying we don't have time to waste."

"So let's split up into teams. We can cover more ground that way." Rick understood Abraham's doubt. He had suffered from the same uncertainty ever since he walked away from Negan on the roadside, leaving him and his men alive. He felt he had done the right thing. Why kill the man when all they needed was a couple hours to escape him forever? Still, it was a loose end, an unknown. All that meant was that they had to keep moving. "Let's park in the center of town and spread out from there."

The caravan circled up in front of a place called Sandy Run Baptist Church near the middle of little Roxobel. The marquis out front read "JUDGEMENT IS UPON US. REPENT." All of the sites chosen for the alien replica vehicles had been chosen for their sparse populations and their distance from the aluminum phosphide release locations. That meant this tiny town would have been one of the last to experience the effects of the arcA trigger. They would have watched the whole mess unfold on their TV screens until communication went dark. They probably felt removed from it all. They would have believed the outbreak was a big city problem. Something that happens in far away places to people they would never meet. It wouldn't have felt real until it arrived at their doorstep.

How long did the people of this community believe they were safe, that they might be passed over? Was it weeks? Months? When did they get ripped out of their denial? Did a walker stumble into this church one Sunday morning and take a bite out of the preacher? It was just another piece of human history that would never get recorded. Even if there were some record, who was left to see it. Most species didn't get to bare witness to their own extinction. Not for long anyway.

Rick was organizing search parties. "I need four teams of three to spread out, North, South, East, West. We're looking for any structure big enough to hold a spacecraft. Maybe a warehouse or a barn. You find anything, radio back."

Tara, Glenn, and Denise volunteered to go North. Abraham, Eugene, and Rosita would go East. Carl, Michonne, and Enid offered to head South. Rick was proud of the willingness of his people to take action. He bowed his head in thanks. "Alright, I'll go West. Who wants to come with me."

"I'll go," Morgan chimed in.

"How about you me and Daryl?" Rick asked. He took a quick look around. "Where is he?" He spotted Daryl rummaging through the storage compartment in the side of the Winnebago.

Daryl found what he was looking for and turned to walk toward the group. " No. I've got something else I need to do." He stalked right past Rick with a shovel in his hand.

Rick watched him go, concern creasing his forehead. "He shouldn't go alone." He said it more to himself than anyone else.

Mulder spoke up. "I'll go with him." He peeked in the same storage compartment and produced another shovel. Then he turned and hurried past the rest of the group to catch up with Daryl as he disappeared around the corner of the church.

Rick watched them both go. "I guess it's just you and me," he said to Morgan.

"I'll go with you," Scully volunteered.

Rick gave her an appreciative clap on the shoulder. "Okay." He turned to Maggie. "You stay here with the vehicles and everyone else. You see anything that makes you uneasy, just call us on the radio. Or fire your gun. We'll come running." With that the teams headed off in their respective directions.

Mulder caught up with Daryl when he was hopping the small fence that bordered the back of the church's courtyard. "Hey, wait up!" he called. "Let me help you."

Daryl didn't respond, didn't make eye contact. He just kept walking.

Mulder tried to engage him. "What's your plan? Where are you heading?"

Daryl scrambled through a ditch and up onto the next road. He looked left and right up and down the narrow street, planning his next move. He pointed his shovel to his left, back toward where this road intersected the one they had taken to reach the church. "That street sign back there. It said Cemetery Road. I'm going to find that cemetery." He turned right and began walking down the street. Mulder went after him, following a few paces behind to give him the solitude he seemed to need at the moment.

A few hundred yards down the road Mulder paused, a building catching his attention. It was an unmarked building, large, flat, and rectangular. The wall facing the street was painted red with a small white door, no windows. It had large roll up doors on one side and a contraption on the roof that hinted that the roof might be retractable. It was plenty big enough to house an ARV like the one he had seen in New Mexico. It was isolated, surrounded by trees. It backed up to a set of train tracks and what looked like a whole lot of nothing beyond.

Daryl walked on. Mulder was torn for a moment. He felt a familiar pull. He thought he could hear his sister's voice inside his head whispering. This is it. This is where you're meant to be. He took an involuntary step toward the building, then paused again. The whispering seemed closer. Fox, this is your destiny. The pull was overwhelming. He was so close. But still he stayed frozen. Finally he said aloud to the building, "Not yet. I have to do something first." With that he shook off his indecision and ran to catch up with Daryl again.

The two men walked side by side in silence until, just as Daryl had expected, they came upon a cemetery. Daryl strode purposefully through the opening in the picket fence surrounding the burial plots. There was a gravel path that ran down the middle of the graveyard. The path parted as it came to an above ground mausoleum in the center. An apparent place of honor for someone who was important once. Gravemarkers peeked out of the tall yellow grass on either side of the path. He spotted what he was looking for right away: a shady spot under a delicate little tree in the far corner of the yard. It was far away from the road, not that anyone would likely be driving this road too often. It was quiet. It was serene. It would be Carol's final resting place.

Daryl thrust his shovel hard into the earth so that it would stand upright. He looked at the spot he had picked out, trying to estimate the size grave he was going to need to dig. Picturing her body lying in the grass proved too painful. Instead he got down on the ground himself and lay on his back with the shovel at his feet. The pale dawn sky looked gray through the tree's leaves. He closed his eyes against the pain, against the memories. He couldn't allow himself to grieve just yet. Time was running out. He'd let himself mourn for her once they were safe.

He opened his eyes and found Mulder standing over him, silently observing. Daryl reached up and touched a spot on the ground about six inches above his head. "Can you mark this for me?"

Mulder pushed his shovel into the dirt at the point Daryl had indicated and then extended a hand to help his friend off the ground. He accepted the help and stood to look at the job he needed to complete.

"You don't have to help me do this."

"Yes I do," Mulder replied, scooping out the first divot of grass and earth.

Daryl took hold of his own shovel and began digging from the opposite end. "Wouldn't you rather be looking for the ship? I don't think anyone wants to find that thing more than you do."

Mulder thought of the building they had passed. He could feel a chain connecting him to the structure, tethered deep inside him, trying to pull him in. "They'll find it. Right now this is more important. This is where I'm meant to be."

"You didn't even know Carol. Why is this so important to you?" Daryl was finding the physical labor of digging gave him an outlet for his emotions. It made it easier to say her name out loud.

"She was important to you. And I care about you. So it's important to me."

Daryl stopped digging for a moment and looked at Mulder. He felt an overwhelming gratitude toward this man. It was a feeling he didn't quite have words for. He had never been good with words. He settled for a simple, "Thank you." He returned to his digging.

When they had a well formed rectangle that was just about deep enough they heard the engines of the vehicles in their caravan come to life, Daryl's motorcycle included. He briefly wondered who would be riding it.

"They must have found something," Daryl observed in surprise.

He looked to Mulder who showed no sign of shock at all. "Did you ever doubt me?" he asked with his signature smirk.

Daryl thought about it. "You know, it just now hit me that this spaceship might be real. I sort of felt like we were chasing a ghost."

Mulder shook his head. "We're not chasing ghosts, we're leaving them behind."

The Winnebago came into view and parked on the road outside the cemetery. The rest of the vehicles stopped short somewhere out of sight. Mulder felt sure they were parked outside the red building with the little white door that had been calling to him. That thought alone allowed the chain inside him to loosen its hold a little. Soon enough he would be there.

Glenn and Tara emerged from the RV, gingerly carrying Carol's lifeless body, wrapped in the shroud of a bedsheet. The rest of the Alexandrians filed into the graveyard on foot. This was it. This was to be Carol's funeral. Her body was placed on the grass alongside the hole that had been dug for her. Daryl knelt beside her.

"Do you want to say something?" Rick asked him. Daryl silently shook his head. He had always been a man of few words. Rick would have to do the honors.

Rick glanced around at his community, his friends, his family. As he prepared to speak, everyone moved in a little closer. Carl removed his hat. "We're here to say goodbye to one of our family members. Carol was a fighter. She fought until her last breath. She fought for what she believed in. And she believed in all of you." Tears were forming in the eyes of many of the people in attendance.

Rick went on. "Some of you might already know that I sent Carol away once. I sent her away because she made a hard decision. She made a choice that I was unable to make at the time. I wasn't strong enough then, but she was. At that time I didn't fully understand, but I came to realize she made that choice to protect us. She took the lives of two people who she called friends because she felt it would save everyone else she loved. She did it for the greater good. I sent her away for it. She didn't fight me on it. She understood my decision. I just wish I had understood hers at the time. But in the end she came back to us. She never went far and wherever she went she was still trying to protect us. She saved us all from some very bad people. She rescued my daughter, Judith, and brought her back to me. Even when I turned my back on her, she never turned her back on me. And for that I will forever be in her debt."

Rick paused, looking down at the peaceful body of one of his dearest friends. "She's gone now and I'm at a loss as to how to repay that debt. But I think I know what she would have wanted. She would have wanted me to keep you all safe. To keep her family safe. She would want to make sure that I never turned my back on any of you ever again. I make that promise to her and I make that promise to you all now. I will do everything I can to protect you all for as long as there is air in my lungs. For as long as there is blood in my veins. For as long as there is life in my body I will keep my family safe."

He got down on one knee and placed his hand over Carol's. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I will try every day to be even half as strong as you were. Rest now. Your watch is over." He kissed the back of her hand.

Rick stood upright and Glenn and Daryl moved in to gently lower her into the ground.

"Wait," a woman's voice called. Daryl looked up to see Scully moving through the crowd. She approached Carol and got down on her knees beside the woman she had only known for a brief time. Scully reached up and unhooked her necklace. She placed it around Carol's neck and fastened the clasp. She then straightened the small gold cross that hung there. It was the cross she had given Carol to help disguise her weapon, her garrote, when she had gone with Dwight to meet Negan. It was the cross she had given her for good luck, to help protect her. And now it was the cross that would watch over her until the end of time. Having made her small offering, Scully stepped back and allowed the two men to lower Carol into her last resting place.

As the team took turns burying her, each wanting to show their respects, Carl and Enid crafted a makeshift gravemarker for her. Two pickets from the cemetery's fence were fashioned together into a cross. Enid used her switchblade to carve her name into the wood. Daryl used the back of the shovel to drive the cross into the ground at the head of the gravesite. As everyone made their way back to the RV and back to where the other vehicles had been left, Daryl lingered. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want this goodbye to be final. As the last of his team made their way through the opening in the fence and back out onto the road, Daryl leaned in and kissed the cross right on the letters spelling out "Carol Peletier."

He placed one hand on the freshly turned earth and felt like he was falling into a well of sadness. He wasn't sure how he would ever climb out of it. He didn't know how long he stayed with her. Long enough that the sun was well above the horizon. He may have stayed there all day if nothing had broken the silence. But the echoing crack of a gunshot ringing out brought him to his feet. He had said his last goodbye to her. It was time to go.


	42. Chapter 42

When the gunshot rang out Rick instinctively hit the ground. He was inside the red building, the hangar, as it were. Abraham had busted the lock off the little white door and he, Eugene, Rosita, and Rick had entered cautiously. The caution was unnecessary. No one, alive or dead, awaited them inside. This building had been locked up tight and it was unassuming enough that looters likely left it alone. Rick thought to himself that if he had come across this building on a supply run he would have driven right past it. He wondered how many people had done exactly that. How many wayward souls had passed up this unmarked, windowless structure in favor of something more promising? In fact this building was the most promising thing left on Earth.

The drawings Scully and Mulder had shown him were of the ship itself, which he couldn't see upon entering the warehouse. Still, he felt sure this was the place. In the dim light pouring in through the open door Rick could make out a complex instrument panel against the back wall. It's buttons, knobs, and levers were coated in dust, but appeared to be intact. One button on the far right side was illuminated. The glowing amber light might as well have been pure gold. It gave promise. It gave hope. Something was still powering this place. To his right there were some heavy duty steel doors with an intimidating looking electronic lock. But Rick would not be intimidated, not when he had come so far, been through so much.

It all seemed so out of place. How could this shabby building in the tiny little town of Roxobel hold something so secretive, so technologically advanced, so vital to survival? Yet here it was, their chance at a new life, their last hope for safety. He felt an electric zing pulsing through his body, like his blood was magnetic and the ship was pulling him in. It didn't feel natural, but somehow it still felt right.

They had their cars lined up outside the roll up doors on the side of the structure and the Winnebago was parked on the road out front. They were poised and ready to load all their worldly possessions into a spaceship that would carry them to another galaxy, another existence. Rosita cut the lock holding one of the roll up doors in place and was ready to hoist it open. That was when they heard it. One crisp, clear gunshot echoing through the emptiness of the deserted town. The sound reverberated through Rick's skull.

The four of them hit the floor inside the red warehouse with the little white door. None of them moved. None of them breathed. The silence felt endless. Rick had nearly convinced himself that it was one of their own. One of his people must have come upon a walker and needed to take care of it quickly. Any second he expected to hear the voice of Glenn or Maggie or Michonne calling out, telling him it was all clear. Everything was fine.

But that wasn't the voice he heard. The voice he heard was filled with malice. The voice he heard was fueled by rage, hatred, revenge. The voice he heard brought a crushing weight down on Rick's chest. A weight he didn't know how to remove.

"Try as I might I just can't seem to forget the name Rick Grimes."

Rick stood, Negan's voice drawing him off the ground like a marionette, propelling him toward the little white door. Abraham moved to follow him, but Rick held up one hand, indicating for his three companions to stay put. With his other hand he drew his gun. As he reached the door he made one swift move over the threshold back out into the daylight. He looked quickly left and then moved right, toward where his people had been waiting for the roll up door to open. Toward Negan's voice. He took about twenty steps until he reached the corner of the building, but it could have been miles for all he knew. He felt like he was trying to run in a dream. His pulse raced, his heart pounded in his ears, but his legs wouldn't obey his sense of urgency. The world was stuck in slow motion.

As he reached the corner of the building, looking down the sights of his pistol, he found a great mass of people. A silent mob, all waiting for his arrival. Front and center in the swarm of indistinguishable bodies was an apologetic looking Carl with a gun pressed firmly against his temple.

Rick would have sworn his heart stopped. Bile rose in his throat and he felt his knees might give out. The sound of Negan's voice reminded him he had to be strong. He had to stay in control.

"You missed one," Negan said with a grin as he wiggled the handle of the gun he held against the head of Rick's son. When they left Negan and his men on the side of the road they had disarmed them hastily. They hadn't searched for their vehicles. They hadn't checked Dwight's body or that of the other dead Savior. They were in too much of a hurry to put distance between themselves and Negan before the medication wore off. They had chosen flight over fight, but now the fight had tracked them down.

Rick felt desperate. "What do you want?"

"I want your blood. If I can't get it from you," Negan sneered, "I'm taking it from your boy."

"You will not spill one drop of his blood," Rick commanded.

Negan feigned offense. "Rick, what kind of a monster do you think I am? I don't want to hurt him. In fact, I kind of like your boy. He's spunky. Must take after dear old Dad. But you must understand, I can't let you get away with what you've done. Someone has to pay."

"We haven't done anything that you didn't bring on yourself," Rick accused. "You showed up at our front door. You threatened us. You hunted us down." Rick's hand on his pistol was shaking, betraying the fear he was doing his best to swallow. "Anything we've done to you and your people was done in self defense. I showed mercy on you. I could have killed every last one of you on the road back there, but I didn't. I spared you. That's your repayment right there. That's the payment for the debt you think you're owed: your own life."

Negan pressed his gun harder into Carl's head. "Rick, if you weren't such a self righteous son of a bitch you'd be able to see it from my point of view. You think you're the white knight, the grand hero in your story. But in my story you're the monster under the bed. You're the thing that goes bump in the night."

Rick shook his head at the megalomaniac before him. "If you weren't such a self absorbed asshole you would be able to see it from my point of view. You're nothing. You're an insignificant little flea. You're a parasite on this world, sucking up everyone else's will to live just to make yourself feel more important. Tell me, what were you before all of this?" Negan's brow furrowed, but he didn't answer. "You were a nobody. That's my bet."

Negan's hand moved in slow motion as he spoke, mechanically cranking away from Carl and toward Rick. The leader of the Alexandrians had struck a nerve. "I was never a nobody. I am an everybody. Everybody is me. We are all Negan. Even you, you just don't realize it yet."

Just as Rick thought Negan was about to fire his weapon the man lurched forward with a grunt, nearly falling to his knees. His grip on Carl's shoulder was all that kept him from hitting the ground. Blood trickled from his slicked back hairline down his face. He licked it as it dripped past his mouth and the taste seemed to strip away all of his composure, all of his pompous showmanship, all of his delusions of grandeur. By the time Rick made sense of what had just happened several Saviors had already pounced on Mulder and wrestled the bat out of his hand.

Negan's precious Lucille had been left carelessly by the wayside. No, not carelessly, Rick decided. Arrogantly. Mulder had seized it and had used the distraction of the conversation between Rick and Negan as an opportunity to take a swing.

But it wasn't enough. Negan recovered quickly, returning the barrel of his gun to Carl's temple. He looked at Rick, but indicated toward Mulder, pinned to the ground, with a jerk of his head. So, should I start with him then? Is he the first to go?"

"I told you once before," Rick snarled. "You're not taking any of my people."

Negan was beyond laughing, beyond grinning, beyond pretending to be in control of his own emotions. "And I told you, they're not your people anymore. Besides, I wasn't talking about taking him. I was talking about killing him."

Rick locked eyes with Mulder, pinned to the ground by four Saviors, helpless. Negan continued. "Yes, I think I'll start with this one. I haven't decided what to do with that little redheaded doctor of yours yet. That bitch deserves to die for what she did. But I have a feeling she'll prove useful to me, so I'll come up with some other form of punishment for her."

At the mention of Scully, Mulder lunged out toward Negan, but was quickly restrained by the men holding him. Negan's grin returned. "She means something to you then, does she?" Negan asked of Mulder. He didn't respond, but if looks could kill Negan would have dropped dead on the spot. "And I'll bet that you mean something to her too. So maybe killing you is a good enough punishment for her. I get two for the price of one."

Negan shifted his aim away from Carl and toward Mulder with that same slow motion, mechanical action. Just as his finger began to squeeze the trigger the world seemed to slow to a crawl. From Rick's vantage point everything was moving underwater. It was as though Rick could feel Negan's sweat. He could feel the tendons in Negan's hand tightening as he prepared to fire. Or was it Rick's own finger on the trigger? Was it his own sweat. He couldn't tell anymore. Maybe he was Negan afterall.

An incongruous whistle ripped through the silence past Rick's left ear. A crossbow bolt came sailing through the air, piercing Negan's chest, missing his heart, but lodging itself deep in his lung. He seemed to stay on his feet for an eternity, teetering between life and death, disbelieving, searching for one last remark to spit at his enemy. The enormity of his entire being, his life, his power, hung in limbo as he contemplated that this could be his dying breath. Blood sputtered forth from his mouth with a wheezing gasp. It seemed impossible that such a driving force, such a super villain, could be struck down with a single well-aimed shot. As he finally fell backward, Carl fell forward and out of harm's way. Rick turned to look over his left shoulder and found Daryl on the roof of the Winnebago, returned from Carol's grave and taking aim at his next target. Rick followed the second arrow with his eyes as it shot through the air and into the neck of one of the men holding Mulder to the ground. Still, Rick couldn't take it all in at full speed. His mind was racing too fast or the world was moving too slow, he wasn't sure which.

His gaze continued to wind around until he was looking over his right shoulder. He saw the roll up door of the building flash open and was greeted by the sight of Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene, assault rifles in hand, opening fire on the mass of Saviors that stood before them. The Alexandrians took cover behind the vehicles they had arrived in and began firing their weapons as well. The war that they had tried to run from was here. For all Rick's planning and maneuvering, this inevitability had caught up with them. The Saviors still had them outnumbered, but they were practically unarmed. Still, they attempted to take cover and defend themselves as their blood was shed.

Rick suddenly realized he was standing stalk still in the middle of all this chaos with his pistol still extended toward the place where Negan once stood. He couldn't hear the shots being fired. He didn't feel the movement all around him. He simply stood, trying to reconnect with the scene. It was Michonne who finally grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the fray. As her hand touched his the world came back up to speed as the two of them dove for cover.

The bloodbath was one sided thanks to the heavy weaponry of the Alexandrians. As a dozen or so of Negan's men lay bleeding in the dirt, the rest turned and fled. Shots were fired after them, but in the end Rick called a cease fire.

"Let them go!" he called, one fist raised as a sign to hold their fire. "They're no threat to us anymore." Rick strode toward his enemy's writhing body on the ground, standing over him as he had done on the road while Negan was drugged. He leaned down and picked up the bat that lay nearby. He examined it, Negan's precious Lucille. His weapon of choice. The thing that had struck fear in the hearts of many and had likely taken the lives of more than a few. It was now no more than a piece of wood wrapped in wire. Without the man who wielded it, it was nothing. Rick propped the bat over his own shoulder and leaned in close to address the dying man.

Negan spoke first. "Just tell me one thing. What's in that building? What did you come here for?" The words were whispered with laboring breaths, wet with blood.

Rick smiled. Even on his deathbed this man remained fascinated with power, with control. "I came here to start again. And that's all you'll ever get to know about it."

Negan was defeated. His breaths were coming slower now. "It costs you nothing to tell me what's in there."

"Maybe not, but it costs you something to never know. And I think that makes it worth it to me."

The pool of blood spreading out around Negan's body was growing. He wasn't long for his world. He would soon be nothing more than a phantom. Yet he couldn't let go. He clung to this world if only to try to antagonize Rick further. "I will haunt you until the end of your days, Rick Grimes. Every time you close your eyes, I'll be there."

Rick let the bat swing like a pendulum, coming to rest right above Negan's nose. "Maybe you will haunt me. But that's because you'll be nothing more than a ghost." He pushed the tip of Negan's own weapon into the man's flesh. "You're not the white knight of your story either."

With that Rick raised Lucille high and brought her down hard on Negan's skull. One blow was all it took. The man's head split open like a ripe tomato. The life was gone from him, but his last breath escaped his punctured lungs with a long slow hiss. Looking down at his enemy's ruined body it seemed impossible that he had been so powerful, that he had ruled an army, that he had played God for so long. Now he was just a corpse, a mound of dead flesh. He would return to dust.

Rick tossed Lucille onto the chest of the dead man and turned to walk away. He was met by a very disappointed looking Morgan, scolding him with his eyes. Morgan repeated his reasoning for letting the Saviors live. "Death only brings about more death."

Rick turned and looked over the bodies sprawled out before him and considered his friend's sentiment. He decided he no longer agreed. "If he had killed Carl or Mulder I would have killed him regardless and I might have died in the process. This way Carl lives, Mulder lives, I live. Negan may be dead, but lives were spared here today." Morgan looked unconvinced. Rick pressed on. "You say death brings about more death. There may have been a time when that was the case. But I don't think the world works that way anymore. We've reached an endgame. Death leads to death. Life leads to death. All that's left on this planet is death. This world needs to burn and start again." Morgan hung his head, finding some truth in Rick's words. "That's why we're leaving."

With those words Rick strode purposefully into the red building with the little white door, hoping to never set foot on the blood stained earth again.


	43. Chapter 43

Mulder pressed his hand against the cold steel of the bay doors separating him from his goal. He felt the metal grow warm under his touch. His palm cooled at the same time. It was an exchange. Man adapting to metal. Metal adapting to man. His mouth grew dry with anticipation. His heart beat in his chest like a hammer.

The vision of the alien replica vehicle had haunted him since the day he had seen one in person. He had traveled to New Mexico to see it. He had been invited. In hindsight he realized the invitation was probably the result of Spender, The Smoking Man, pulling his endless supply of strings. How much of Mulder's life had been dictated behind the scenes by that man? He would never know. Still, he was grateful he had been given the opportunity to see that spacecraft. He had touched it. He had been shown what it was capable of. Ever since then it had often visited him in his dreams. Calling out to him. Drawing him in. It was a vessel of possibility.

Now here he stood, tantalizingly close to another one. All that stood between him and the ARV was four inches of solid steel.

"Why can't I just blast the damn doors open?" Abraham asked, holding up the case of rocket powered grenade launchers that he was always itching to use. He was standing impatiently near the doors.

"Because," Eugene replied without looking up from the control panel at the back wall of the warehouse, "You would risk damaging the spacecraft and, I'm sorry, but I simply cannot allow that." He looked from the schematics in his hand to the controls. Sweat beaded on his brow. This was his chance to redeem himself. He knew he had made a lot of mistakes, let a lot of people down. This was his one chance to make up for it. He couldn't screw this up.

After confirming and reconfirming that the schematics made no mention of how to open the bay doors he determined he would have to wing it. He started with the illuminated amber button on the far side of the panel. He pushed the button down and held it, along with his breath.

Just as he had hoped, an electronic whirring filled the space. It was the kind of white noise that people would ignore in the old world. An ever present hum, like a television that had been left on. But in this world it sounded foreign. It sounded alien. A series of pinging noises rang out and then the whole control panel lit up like a Christmas tree. Eugene thought it might be the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

He scanned the panel, looking for anything that might indicate the door controls. Everything was labeled with symbols instead of words. Eugene had always been annoyed by that trend. He understood the purpose. If you go about labeling the world with icons instead of words, you reduce the language barrier. But those icons were a form of word association that had never clicked in his brain. He had come to realize his brain didn't work quite like most people.

There! He spotted some familiar symbols. There were two buttons together, red and green. The red one had a picture of a padlock. The green one had two triangles pointing in opposite directions, like the button in elevators that held the doors open.

Eugene took a deep breath, trying not to let his anxiety show. He depressed the red button. Everyone's attention turned to the steel doors as they heard a mechanical cranking sound. Metal on metal. Gears working together. Cogs biting into each other. Eugene released his breath.

Then the green button. He placed his finger over the button, said a silent prayer and pushed it down. This button gave more resistance and his instinct was to hold it down. He felt a slight rumble beneath his feet. The whole building shuddered slightly as the solid steel doors parted at the seam, swinging out into the room and causing the onlookers to take several steps back. Years of dust billowed out into the space.

There was a collective gasp as the dust settled. Mulder dropped to his knees. There it was, the thing that had been haunting him. The hunk of metal and machinery and alien technology that had spent years living in the corners of his mind. Made by man, designed by an alien race, the only interplanetary collective effort in the known universe. Now the alien replica vehicle stood before him. Well, floated would be more accurate. Just like the one he had seen in New Mexico, this ship was suspended in midair, some unseen alien force holding it about four feet off the ground. It was more or less triangular in shape, all metal with no visible windows of any kind. Mulder had been given the understanding that the occupants would be able to see out without the aid of any windows. Despite the dust that had accumulated in the warehouse over the years, the spacecraft looked shiny, polished, pristine. The dark colored metal reflected the faces of the awed onlookers. It seemed everyone was afraid to move. Within the confines of the building the ship looked massive. It was certainly bigger than the Winnebago. But Mulder knew their journey would be a long one and the space would be cramped. Still, wasn't that worth survival? Wasn't that worth a chance at a real life?

As Mulder kneeled on the cold concrete floor, staring at the technological marvel before him, he caught sight of his own face in the reflection. But it wasn't his eyes staring back at him. He couldn't quite explain it, but he felt sure they were his sister's eyes. He thought he could hear her whispering again. _It's time, Fox. Come home._ This was exactly the type of calling that made him a believer. He had no doubt in his mind. In that moment he knew this would work, that they were doing the right thing. They would make it out and they would survive.

The group may have stood and stared forever if it weren't for Eugene strutting past them toward the ship. With more confidence than he truly felt, Eugene located the handle that would open the ship's door. There was a hissing whoosh as some sort of airlock was released. Then a large door folded down to become a ramp. The group took that as their cue to get to work. Everyone maintained a sort of solemn silence as they went about the business of unloading the contents of their earthly vehicles. As the rest of the Alexandrians went about forming a sort of assembly line to load their supplies onto the ARV, Eugene had to work on powering everything up. In the meantime he needed someone else to climb up to the roof and see about retracting it. The ship was designed to launch straight up.

He glanced around and his eyes first fell on Abraham. He considered assigning him this chore, but then decided against it. Their relationship was still rocky at best. Of all the people Eugene felt he owed something, his debt to Abraham was the greatest. The man had risked his life to protect Eugene because of a lie he had told. He had claimed to be someone he wasn't. Someone who had knowledge of the outbreak and the power to fix it. He claimed to be exactly what Scully actually was. He had finally been forced to own up to his lie and he had been trying to make up for it ever since. He hadn't earned redemption yet. Least of all from Abraham. He would ask someone else to climb up to the roof.

His gaze drifted to Glenn. Glenn was a very forgiving man. He always tried to believe the best of people. He could be trusted with the task and wouldn't make Eugene feel too guilty for asking.

As if he were a mind reader, Glenn noticed Eugene staring and broke away from the assembly line. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Eugene was relieved by the offer. "I need someone to climb up there." He pointed to a ladder near the roll up door that led to a hatch in the ceiling. "There should be a latch and a crank to roll the whole thing back. If you would not mind, I would be much obliged."

Glenn clapped him on the shoulder, sensing his comrade's discomfort at his suddenly position of authority. "You got it, boss." He made his way toward the ladder as Eugene returned to the control panel, preparing for launch.

As Glenn opened the hatch a shower of rusted paint chips rained down on him. He shook himself off and climbed up to the roof. Most of the top of the building looked like a larger version of the roll up doors, only horizontal. There was a latch at one end of the door, just as Eugene had predicted. Near the southeast corner of the building was the crank box. He began with the latch which he quickly found was rusted into place. Glenn said a silent curse to himself when it didn't budge under his force. For lack of a better tool, he removed his gun from its holster and used the butt of it as a hammer, pounding away until finally it gave, just a little. He leaned in and blew the rust and paint chips away, then tried to push it with his hand again. Still nothing. He hammered away with the grip of his gun until all at once the latch swung wide open. The retractable roof gapped open with the release, less than an inch, but at least it moved.

Glenn accepted the tiny victory and stood to walk to the crank box. The handle of the crank was behind a little aluminum door and had likely been protected from the weather. There was significantly less rust in this part of the mechanism. He tested the handle and found it moved without too much force. Glenn braced himself and gave the crank a full rotation. With a great metallic squeal of protest, the roof rolled back about one foot. He gave it two rotations in succession and the roof rolled back another two feet. He looked at how far he had to go. He guessed the ship was at least 50 feet, nose to tail. He'd have to get the roof rolled back at least that much. He mentally prepared himself for the labor ahead and dug right in. After a lot of sweat, and a few blisters on his palms, he reached the end of his task. Another small win. He thought about how lucky they had been. Lucky to have Mulder and Scully stumble into their village with the knowledge they possessed and the plan they formed. Lucky to have made the journey here, trying as it was. Lucky to have defeated Negan and sent his Saviors running. Lucky the ship was still here, that it still had power.

Glenn peered into the opening and looked down at the spaceship below. There was no denying, it was an impressive sight. He caught sight of Maggie, holding William, in the building below and he smiled. He smiled nearly every time he saw her. As if she sensed his gaze she looked up and smiled back. As Glenn tried to catch his breath from the work of rolling back the roof he thought how out of place this shiny, futuristic contraption was. How could this thing exist in the middle of such a tiny little rural town.

Maggie was still looking up at her husband when he looked out at the surrounding town and she noticed the second his face fell. All the blood seemed to drain out of him. He was ghostly pale. Something was wrong.

"Glenn!" Maggie called, catching the attention of many of her friends on the ground, but not Glenn. He was frozen, staring off into the distance. "Glenn!" she called again, more panicked. Everyone on the ground stopped what they were doing and looked up at Glenn.

Finally snapping out of his shock he managed to choke out the words, "We have a problem." He looked down toward Maggie, holding their baby son in her arms. Then he saw Rick and the concern in the eyes of his leader, his friend. He had trouble forming the words, but as the blood returned to his brain he managed to shout, "Walkers! Everyone inside! Close the doors!"

Rick raced toward the ladder as everyone else clambered to secure the warehouse. Rick reached the top rung of the ladder as Daryl and Abraham slammed the roll up doors closed and latched them, barricading the Alexandrians inside. Glenn met Rick at the top of the ladder and helped hoist him up onto the roof. Rick dusted the rust off his hands onto his pants as he turned to look at what had struck Glenn with such dread. After one look he pressed his eyes closed, not wanting to believe what he saw. But as he peeled his eyelids open again he couldn't deny the sight. A herd was pressing in on them. The road they had come in on was suddenly filled with a flood of walkers that were slowly, but incessantly, making their way toward the red building with the little white door. The horde was still a ways out, but they would arrive soon enough.

The commotion of the battle with the Saviors must have drawn them in. Or maybe the racket of their entire journey from Alexandria was drawing together a parade of the dead all along the way and they were finally catching up. Whatever the case, this meant trouble.

Rick had seen herds before. He had tactics to use against them. If it was a relatively small group his people could take them out with guns and knives and any other weapons at their disposal. But this was definitely a bigger group than that. If it was an enormous gathering the best approach was to try to lead them away. But that took time and a lot of planning. Time was something they didn't have. Sometimes if you were very quiet a herd would just pass you by. But with this many live people in one small space, the walkers were as likely to smell them as hear them. Their best chance with this particular group was to launch that ship as quickly as possible.

Without pulling his eyes away from the approaching undead army, Rick called down to his ship pilot. "Eugene! How long until you can get this thing off the ground?"

Eugene was hunched over the buttons and knobs and levers, sweating profusely. At Rick's question he planted his clenched fists on the control panel, worried he may physically crumble under the pressure. He had to keep it together. He sucked in a sharp breath and fumbled for an answer. "Um, well. It's just that…"

Abraham was losing his patience. "Spit it out, numb nuts."

Eugene stood up straight, trying to regain his composure. "We have a problem."

Rick was growing impatient as well. "Yeah, well I've got a problem up here too. Can you fly this thing or not?"

"I can." Eugene's response was for Rick, but he turned to face Abraham as he said it. "I can. However, there is a problem with the dual launch controls. It's a security feature. The controls are clearly diagramed in the schematics. There's an engage switch and a power check gauge and a final release button."

Abraham couldn't take the rambling. "In English, Eugene! I don't speak tech nerd."

Eugene searched his mind for the simplest way to explain the problem. His brain didn't really do simple. "It takes two people to launch the ship. Two people with two sets of controls. One set is in front of the pilot seat in the ARV. The other set is right here." He indicated a set of buttons and levers on the control panel at the back of the warehouse.

A long pause followed this revelation and Eugene wasn't sure if his audience didn't understand or if they were just letting it sink it.

Rick asked for clarification. "What are you trying to tell us, Eugene?"

"I'm trying to tell you," Eugene said, flustered, "that if you want to launch this thing, someone is going to have to stay behind."

Rick felt his heart drop into his stomach. Eugene went on, saying something about the lack of indication in the schematics, but Rick barely heard it. He turned his gaze toward the approaching herd. They were still tiny figures on the horizon, like the little plastic army men Carl used to play with. But they were growing larger all the time. He sat down on the roof in defeat. How could they have come this far only to find out they would have to sacrifice one of their own? This couldn't be.

Glenn sat down beside him. "You know, we don't have to do this." Rick buried his face in his hands and didn't respond. Glenn went on. "We could go back to Alexandria. Negan is dead. We could regroup, come up with another plan."

Rick looked at him. He knew his friend was trying to be helpful, but Rick felt utterly helpless at the moment. "We would have to find a way past those walkers first. We're out of gas. The world itself is running out of supplies to sustain human life. And even if we could make it back to Alexandria, there will always be another Negan."

Glenn could hardly argue with him. Those were all valid points. They had committed to this plan and they hadn't really left themselves an out.

"I'll stay," Rick declared.

Glenn shook his head. "You can't do that anymore than I can, Rick. You have a family. Carl is a tough kid but you can't leave him with the responsibility of raising his baby sister." Rick looked unconvinced. "Besides, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, you are the survivor you've become because of these people. You're a leader, Rick. It's your role. You're good at it. It's who you are. Without your people to lead, I'm not sure how you could survive this world."

Rick was crushed. He knew Glenn was right. He had stepped into the role of leader somewhat hesitantly, but it was all he was ever really meant to do. He couldn't survive as a loner. He had survived this far because of the skills of his people. His only job now was to keep his people safe. He couldn't very well do that by staying behind. Yet the fact remained, they had to evacuate and that meant someone had to stay here, on Earth. But who?

As if hearing Rick's thoughts, Glenn said, "Come on. Let's get down from here so you can do what a good leader does."

"And what might that be?" Rick asked, struggling to hold his thoughts together.

Glenn gave Rick an encouraging pat on the back, trying to lift his spirits. "You're going to let your people decide."


	44. Chapter 44

Rick's heartbeat returned to a somewhat normal pace as he reached the bottom rung of the ladder and set foot back on the warehouse floor. He still felt nauseated at the idea of leaving one of his friends behind. It wasn't a task he could ask of anybody. They were a group, a team, a small army. But first and foremost they were family.

As he looked at the forlorn faces of his tribe he realized Glenn was only partly right. It was true, a good leader would let his people decide. He couldn't single out one person and ask them to stay behind, to be abandoned by their clan. But he knew his friends and he knew he wouldn't have to ask. There would be volunteers. The part that Glenn had left out was that, as a good leader, Rick would have to tell some of them no. He may not be able to decide who should stay behind, but he could decide who must go on this journey.

Maggie and Glenn had a baby to raise. They couldn't be separated. That child would need them both. Spencer, Denise, all the people who had been part of Deanna's village. They had already been in Alexandria when Rick and his original group arrived. They had been protected from most of the horrors of the apocalypse. They had learned a lot since Rick's arrival, but they didn't know how to survive, how to fend for themselves outside the safety of those walls. He couldn't allow any of them to volunteer. It would be a death sentence. Michonne was a survivor. But the mere thought of being separated from her pulled at his heartstrings. He loved her. In truth, a lot of people in Rick's community had found love. He made the decision that none of them could be separated. Love was a rare commodity in this world. Of all the things they should bring with them on this journey, love was probably the most important.

As Rick gathered these thoughts in his mind, Abraham broke the silence. "How many are there?"

"Too many to count," Rick replied with a defeated sigh. "Probably not as many as that herd from the quarry. But definitely too many for us to take on."

"How far out?" Abraham was following the same line of thinking Rick had walked himself through on the roof. If they couldn't kill them, could they outrun them?

Rick shook his head. "They're at the edge of town, but they're heading this way. They'll be on us in ten minutes or so."

Abraham was thinking through the logistics of every possible escape plan and wasn't coming up with anything feasible. Rick spoke these same thoughts to the rest of the group. "We can't fight them. There are too many. We can't run from them. We're too low on gas and we have nowhere to run to. We could try to wait them out, but I don't trust this building to hold them back."

Carl was next to come to the same conclusion Rick had. "So our only chance is to try to evacuate, launch the ship."

Eugene interjected, "But, as I mentioned, that does entail leaving someone behind." Silence fell as the group let the direness of the situation sink in. The unfairness of it all was too painful. They had been through so much, both collectively and individually. They had all suffered so much loss. It seemed a great injustice that this world was going to force one more loss upon them before they left. Rick stared at his feet, searching for the words. How could he ask someone to stay behind? How could he abandon a member of his family. He didn't have to ask.

"I'll do it," came the voice of a volunteer. Rick's eyes shot up to meet Daryl's. As Rick stared in disbelief at his right hand man, his colleague, his best friend a chorus of protests rose up from the rest of the group.

Daryl stared back at Rick, not in a challenging way, but with a resigned indifference. As if he were volunteering for something as simple as an extra watch in the guard tower. He held up a hand to silence the protests. "I'll do it," he said again. He turned to Eugene. "Just show me what to do."

Before Eugene could take a step toward the control panel, Morgan interrupted. "It should be me. I've been part of this group for the shortest time. I was out there on my own. I can do it again."

Daryl shook his head. "This isn't a seniority thing. It doesn't matter if you joined this group first last or somewhere in between. You told Rick that leaving Negan alive on Earth was a fate worse than death. Those were your words. How can you ask him to do that to you?" Morgan opened his mouth to argue further, but Daryl cut him off. "Besides, you can't bring yourself to kill anyone. You need to go some place where killing isn't the way of life. That place ain't here."

Aaron was next to volunteer. "I'll stay. You know how much time I've spent out there alone. I'm a survivor. I can find another group. I won't be alone."

Daryl had an argument against that as well. "You won't be able to recruit another group without the offer of Alexandria. You would need some other group to take you in and I wouldn't trust anyone anymore. Not after seeing how far Negan's control reached. Besides,". Daryl pointed to Aaron's boyfriend, Eric. "He needs you up there, not down here."

Abraham raised his hand. "I should do it. It's always been my mission to keep these people safe. Let me take this responsibility."

Daryl gave Abraham a half smile. "I can't let you do that, buddy. She needs you," he said as he pointed toward Rosita. "It makes the most sense for me to stay. You've got to let me take this one for the team."

"And what about me?" There was an edge of anger in Mulder's voice as he stepped away from the ship and toward Daryl.

"There's no way in hell you can stay here," Daryl told him, caught off guard by his apparent offer. "You know more about that planet full of aliens than anyone else here. Of all people, you have to go."

Mulder took a few more paces forward until he stood just inches in front of Daryl. "That's not what I meant." The harsh inflection was still there. "I meant what about me? Eric needs Aaron. Rosita needs Abraham. Well guess what, I need you."

Daryl stared back at Mulder, their eyes locked in a battle of blue steel. He took a few measured breaths, trying to form the right words in his mind. "You told me you spent your whole life looking up at the sky because you always knew something was out there. Something was calling to you. You said you felt like you never belonged here. And I think you're right. But the thing is, I've never belonged anywhere else. I didn't even belong in the world before the outbreak. A part of me always knew that. But this world, right here, right now. This is what I was meant for. And that's why I have to stay. That's why it has to be me."

The anger in Mulder's expression melted away and was replaced by despair. "But how do you know? How do you know that you don't belong up there too? Most people don't know where they're going until they arrive."

Mulder's pleading tone tugged at Daryl's heart, but he held his ground. "That might be true for most people. But not for us. I think you know exactly where you're going. And I think I've already arrived."

Mulder lost the staring contest. He looked down at his feet with a sigh of frustration. When he looked back up there were tears in his eyes. "I know you're right. But you can't make me like it." The anger was back in his voice, but it wasn't anger toward Daryl. It was anger at the situation.

Daryl smiled a little. "I figured out pretty quick that I can't _make_ you do anything."

Without warning Mulder leaned in and kissed him. Daryl's instinct was to pull away. He had been experiencing so much self doubt about his feelings toward Mulder. He had halfway convinced himself that it was all just a big mistake. But now he realized that life was too short for regrets. He might as well accept himself as he is. Without looking he could tell all the surrounding Alexandrians were exchanging inquisitive looks and shocked expressions. But he didn't pull away. What did it matter what anyone thought? In a matter of minutes he would never see any of these people again. So he gave in. He kissed Mulder back, placing a hand at the back of his neck and leaning into him, because it felt right. It felt like where he was supposed to be. He had arrived.

As Mulder pulled away, he whispered, "Just promise me you'll keep looking up."

Daryl couldn't speak. He couldn't find any words. So he just nodded and turned to face a wide-eyed Eugene. "Show me what to do."

Eugene shook off his astonishment and followed Daryl to the control panel as the rest of the crew went about loading themselves into the space craft. When Daryl felt confident in the instructions he had received he turned to find Rick, looking tearyeyed and a little queasy. He looked like he was having trouble making eye contact, much less forming words. "I'm sorry," was all he managed to utter. Daryl knew he didn't want to put this burden on anyone. Probably Daryl least of all. But the fact remained that someone had to do it.

Daryl was suddenly struck by how much he was going to miss Rick. "Don't be sorry. Someone has to stay. I make the most sense. I'll survive."

Rick swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. "You know you're not just my friend, right? You're my best friend. You're my brother."

Daryl was starting to feel a little choked up himself. "I know, man. I know. You're my brother too." Rick pulled him in for a hug. Rick had never been the hugging type, but he couldn't say goodbye to Daryl with a handshake or a pat on the back. Not after all they had been through together. Not after the number of times they had saved each others lives. Not after the sacrifice Daryl had just made so that this whole family of people could have a chance at a life away from all this death.

As Rick released him Daryl saw Abraham standing over his shoulder. He was holding the case of RPGs. "I don't do heartfelt goodbyes, my friend." Daryl nodded in understanding and gave the former military sergeant a little salute. Abraham saluted him in return. He handed the case to Daryl by the strap. "I think you'll be needing these."

Daryl accepted the weapons readily. He knew this group couldn't outrun the herd. They had nowhere left on Earth to run to anyway. But one man could outrun those monsters. He could outrun them. There was no time left for long goodbyes if he was going to have a chance for escape as well. He solemnly watched every friend he had left on the planet file into the alien replica vehicle. The last person Daryl saw before the ship door swung shut was Rick. There were no more words to be spoken, just a sorrowful expression to be shared.

The door sealed itself shut with a loud clang. Daryl flinched at the finality of the sound. He couldn't allow himself to think about anything but the task in front of him. If he stopped to think about everything he was about to let go, he might just lose his mind. He had to focus on Eugene's instructions. He approached the control panel. Eugene had left one of the radios resting there and it clicked on. Eugene's voice sounded, "Check, one, two. Do you copy?"

Daryl gave a small laugh at the familiarly strange mannerisms of his friend. "Yeah, man, I hear you."

"Prepare to engage." Daryl placed his hand over the engage switch. As Eugene ordered, "Engage!" Daryl flipped the switch.

"Okay," Daryl said into the radio. "The powercheck gauge is in the green."

"Copy that. Mine shows green as well. Prepare for release."

Daryl placed his thumb over the release button. "Hey, Eugene. You keep everyone safe up there. Got it?"

There was a pause in which Daryl guessed Eugene was feeling either very proud at the authority he had been given or terrified by the responsibility. He came back on the radio. "Copy that."

Daryl smiled to himself. "Okay, I'm ready."

As Eugene exclaimed, "Release!" Daryl pressed and held the button. He jumped back as the ship suddenly shot straight up. It was a smooth motion, but Daryl was startled by the speed of the spacecraft. It hovered above the warehouse. It shined so brightly in the sunlight that he had to squint to look at it. He was about to look away because it was nearly blinding. Then the ship shimmered and looked somehow pixelated. Then, all at once, it was gone. It just faded out and disappeared. Daryl searched his memory. He thought Mulder had told him something about the ship becoming invisible. He wondered how he was going to know if the launch was successful if he couldn't see the damn thing.

Just as the thought had crossed his mind, the ship itself gave him an answer. He felt a concussive pulse, like a bomb going off. It knocked him on his back. He stared up at the place where the ship had been and thought he saw the outline of it shimmering there for a second. Then there was a sudden rush of air. Oxygen was being forced into his lungs, but sucked out at the same time. He felt like his eyes were going to burst out of his head. Then there was a sound. He could only describe it as a sonic boom. Every speck of dust in the warehouse was kicked up into a cyclone, obscuring Daryl's vision. Then, all at once, everything was still and silent. The dust settled. The only sound he could hear was the ringing in his own ears. Dust settled all around him. He wanted to cough, but whatever that force was, that pulse, had left his lungs so weak he couldn't quite manage it. He allowed himself a moment to just lay flat on his back on the warehouse floor. He allowed himself to be still.

As the ringing in his ears began to fade he was able to make out a muffled sound. A familiar sound. An undead sound. The herd was pressing in, close enough to hear them. He was worried about his friends. He hoped that they had made it out, that they had survived the launch, that they were already on their way to safety. But he couldn't worry about them too much just yet. He needed to worry about himself first.

He rolled himself over and managed to cough up some of the particulate he had inhaled. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and slowly crawled to the case of rocket powered grenade launchers. He opened the case and removed one of the weapons. Slinging it over his shoulder he pulled himself to his feet. He strode toward the ladder that would lead him to the roof, kicking up a little cloud of dust which each step.

Daryl reached the roof and peered over the edge of the building. The parade of walkers was about 50 yards out. At the sight of him the leaders seemed to move a little more quickly. This was as close as he would get to earthly companions from now on. These roaming bands of corpses were all that were left to keep him company. He had assigned himself a very lonely existence. But that was okay, he thought. Lonely was something he was used to.

These companions had to go. He propped the RPG over his shoulder, took aim, and fired. The sound seemed faint compared to the din of the ARV launch. The front of the herd suddenly vanished. Probably three dozen walkers just disappeared. All that was left of them were puddles of charred flesh and an assortment of smoldering body parts. The ones that were far enough back to survive the blast were burning. That was the only time they made a different noise. When a walker was after you the sound was always the same, a sort of hissing growl. Even if you stabbed them, dismembered them, the sound was always the same. But fire? Fire seemed to be the one thing they could still feel. When a walker caught fire it shrieked like a banshee. The haunting sound sent a chill down Daryl's spine. The noise seemed to be an effective distraction for the remaining stream of monsters. They were no longer an organized herd, but a swarming mass of chaos. This was his chance for escape.

Daryl climbed back down the ladder into the warehouse. He made sure that the rollup doors were secured. Then he grabbed his crossbow and made his way out the little white door, careful to close it behind him. He had bought himself some time. But the sound of the ship launch coupled with the RPG was sure to draw in every walker for miles around. He had to go. He mounted his bike, examining the other vehicles, remembering the small ration of food left for him in the warehouse. He would come back for it, he promised himself. He would allow enough time for the herd to disburse and then he would come back to this town. He fired up the motorcycle's engine and quickly turned it back onto the road, heading southwest, away from the herd and the smell of burned corpses.

He took one last look at the red building with the little white door in his mirror as he rode away. Away from the building, away from the herd, further from Alexandria and from whatever had become of the Saviors. He rode away from all of it, into the unknown. On his way out of town he passed the quiet graveyard where Carol would remain forevermore. _Yes_ , he promised himself again, _I'll come back here._


	45. Chapter 45

"This will only hurt a little," Scully promised Enid. They were both tucked away in a corner of one of the more open areas of the spaceship. The interior of the ARV was more spacious than it appeared from the outside. It consisted of the pilot's quarters, a couple adjoining hallways that led to the two shared living spaces, a handful of sleeping bunks tucked into little cubbies and two compact, airplane-style bathrooms. It seemed to be designed to carry about ten people comfortably. Having packed closer to two dozen people into the space made living conditions somewhat cramped, but it was hardly the worst thing the Alexandrians had been through.

When the ship had launched, many of the passengers had been sick. The launch itself was jarring. Even Mulder hadn't been prepared for the breakneck speed with which the spacecraft would leave the atmosphere. There was a reason astronauts spent years conditioning themselves for space travel. But the occupants of the vessel adjusted quickly. Now it was just a matter of passing the time until their arrival on the alien planet.

They had no real way to measure time anymore. They didn't know how long they had been traveling. Their only measure of time on Earth was counting the sunrises. In the blackness of space there were no sunrises. They had quickly rocketed out of Earth's atmosphere and through their solar interstellar neighborhood, past their local galactic group, and beyond the Virgo supercluster. It was a feat that would have taken a human-designed shuttle years, if not lifetimes. But this alien vehicle had technology that humans had never dared to imagine. They estimated they had left the Milky Way Galaxy in the equivalent of about one day.

Rick guessed by the growth of his beard that they had been traveling for several weeks. His crew had fallen into a sort of suspended animation. He couldn't remember the last time they had gone this long without having to worry about some sort of imminent threat or attack. But there was still a great deal of apprehension about their ability to reach the alien planet and what fate might await them when they finally arrived. Still, with a journey of this length ahead of them and nothing to do but wait, it was easy to fall into a sort of complacency about those fears. It seemed that everyone had accepted that whatever will be will be. There was no sense worrying about it until they arrived. Rick never ceased to be impressed by his people. They were unstoppable. They were resilient.

Even now, they were working toward survival. Rick stood idly by and observed as Scully carefully drew a blood sample from Enid. After it was clear that everyone had survived the launch and that they were truly on their way, Carl had brought Enid to Scully. She hadn't been present in Alexandria when everyone received their injection of _arcB_. She wouldn't have the gene pairing necessary to survive the atmosphere of the alien planet. Scully had determined that the easiest way to give Enid _arcB_ would be to give her a blood transfusion. It was what she had done for Mulder when he nearly died at the beginning of the outbreak. It had worked on him. It was simple and effective. But first Scully needed a sample of Enid's blood to determine if they shared compatible blood types.

"Sorry," Scully said as she noticed Enid wince at the insertion of the needle. She slowly filled a vial with Enid's blood.

"It's fine, Dr. Scully.." Enid looked away, probably having seen more than enough blood in her young life.

"Please, call me Dana." Scully hadn't known Enid as long as everyone else, but she had quickly noticed how quiet she was. The teenager seemed melancholy most of the time. It was understandable, of course. They had all been through hell and back again. But it must be harder on those who were so young when the outbreak occurred. They had their whole lives ahead of them only to have it all ripped away. Scully understood that Enid had watched her entire family die in front of her own eyes and then had been left to roam the world alone before stumbling upon Alexandria. It was difficult for the girl to connect with people. But Scully sensed there was more to it than that. Enid seemed different somehow. As if she had seen more than she let on.

Scully thought she'd try to engage Enid. She hadn't been present for Scully's explanation of the alien genomes to the rest of Alexandria. Scully was sure if Carl had explained it to her something had been lost in translation. "Would you like to see what the alien DNA looks like compared to your own human DNA?" she asked tentatively.

Enid thought it over. "Yeah, I guess so." It wasn't as if she had something better to do. She watched as Scully extracted a bit of the blood she had just taken and put it in a smaller vial with a little plastic lid. She snapped the lid shut and placed it in the centrifuge. Scully switched the machine on and Enid's blood went swirling around in an impossibly fast blur. When the proteins had separated from the rest of the blood, Scully removed the sample and placed a few tiny drops on a microscope film.

Enid observed as Scully peered into the microscope, adjusting the knobs, searching for a specific chromosome. "Okay, take a look at that." Scully moved aside so Enid could look through the lenses of the microscope. "Do you see that DNA right in the center? That's your normal human DNA."

Enid nodded indicating she understood what she was looking at. She had taken biology class. She had seen plenty of diagrams of DNA.

Scully took back the controls and went hunting for the _arcA_ she was sure Enid possessed, the alien chromosome that everyone had been given along with their Polio vaccine as a child. Enid waited, distractedly picking at a stray thread on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Scully suddenly stiffened and looked up at her. "Enid…" she said, questioningly, but then trailed off. She looked through the microscope again, trying to confirm that her eyes weren't deceiving her.

Enid was now at full attention and the silence seemed to stretch on longer than she could bare. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. "Dr. Scully?" Scully didn't look up. Enid tried again. "Dana?" Still she didn't pull away from the microscope.

"Dana?" Enid was worried something was terribly wrong. "What do you see?"

Scully looked up and met the young woman's troubled eyes. "Enid," she said, unsure how to explain what she saw. "You already have _arcB_."

Enid's face barely changed, but Scully thought she saw a glimpse of something in her expression. Something had just clicked in her mind. Some long buried connection had been made. It looked like a mixture of pain and relief.

Scully was baffled. "How can this be?" She meant the question to be rhetorical, but to her surprise Enid had an answer for her.

"I was abducted." Enid dropped her gaze to the floor, no longer able to look Scully in the eye. She looked wounded, dejected, ashamed.

Scully was overwhelmed with emotions. She felt guilt for having reopened what was obviously a terrible memory for Enid. She felt anger at the people who had abducted her, taken her from her family and injected her against her will. She felt a maternal instinct to protect this girl from her own past. She also felt a strange sort of camaraderie as well.

Scully put an arm around her and pulled her close, unsure how Enid would react to a show of affection. When she didn't pull away, Scully squeezed her a little tighter and said, "Me too, honey. Me too."

"Are you sure this is it?" Rick stood over Eugene's shoulder in the pilot's quarters. He looked at the planet that had come into view in front of the ARV. Just as Mulder had been told, the passengers in the ship could see out even though it appeared windowless from the outside. It was sort of a trick of the eyes. Rick could see the controls of the ship immediately in front of him, but if he shifted his focus forward, outside of the ship, he could see what lay beyond. Eugene explained that it had something to do with the spacecraft being invisible.

Rick worried for a moment about their invisibility. If they could actually land this thing on the alien planet, would anyone even know they were there? He shook off the thought. The alien race that occupied this planet had designed this ship. Surely they had some method of observing their approach. Besides, Eugene was confident in his ability to land the ship safely. It was a confidence Rick had never seen in him on Earth. He was a new man; a redeemed man.

Eugene had called him to the front of the ship when the planet came into view. From that distance, outside the atmosphere, it looked very similar to Earth. There were large bodies of water separating various land masses. As they came closer they could see vast areas of brown deserts, green forests. After entering the atmosphere they could make out brightly illuminated cities. It was strange to observe something that looked so earthly, but without the familiar shapes of the continents they knew from their own globe.

The ship had zeroed in on its landing destination, seemingly navigating itself. They slowed as they approached what looked a little bit like an airport. Bright lights designated landing areas. Instead of being stretched out to illuminate a long landing strip, they were arranged in triangular shapes that the ship could drop straight down upon. As they drew closer they could see other similar ships resting in their designated landing spots. Most were much larger than the ship the Alexandrians had traveled in.

It seemed they were arriving as dusk was falling. The light was fading from the sky, but it wasn't dark just yet. The ship came in for a very smooth landing compared to its takeoff. Rick was awash with relief as he felt the movement of the ARV cease. He noticed that the landing field was surrounded by a circular building. As the ship touched down, a door in the building opened, but Rick didn't get to see who, or what, came out of it. The ship shimmered and became once again opaque. It must have become fully visible again from the exterior, which meant the occupants could no longer see out.

Rick had been planning this moment in his head over the months it had taken them to travel this far. He had planned what he would say to his people. He had planned to take Mulder and Scully with him to make first contact with the alien beings. But every time he thought through the plan he would get to the part where he actually stepped out he door of the vehicle and he wouldn't know what to expect. He couldn't begin to imagine what would await him, what the planet would look like, how the aliens would communicate. He had no idea how to plan for that. So he focused on his own people.

Everyone gathered in one of the common rooms. Rick attempted to make eye contact with every person in the cramped space. He tried to read their expressions. He saw fear, anticipation, relief, weariness. He began the words he had rehearsed in his head over the course of their journey.

"We have arrived. This is what we've been working toward. It's what we've been struggling to achieve. And now we've done it. We're here. We don't know exactly what's waiting for us out there. But that's no reason to be afraid. We've been through horrors most people couldn't have imagined. We've survived it all. We think of ourselves as Alexandrians. We were all from somewhere else before. But Alexandria is where we came together as a family. Now we're in a new place, uncharted territory. On this planet we're not just Alexandrians. We're people. We're human beings. We're earthlings. We're refugees. We fled our home because it no longer sustained human life. Yes, we are refugees and we hope that whoever is waiting for us out there will accept us as exactly that.

"But no matter what happens, no matter where we go from here, I want you all to promise me one thing. Promise me you will hold onto your humanity. It's all we have left of the world we came from. That and each other." Rick stole a glance at Glenn. "It's been pointed out to me that I'm a leader. A leader is nothing without his people. I'm nothing without all of you. I just want you all to know how proud I am of you. How proud I am of us."

Rick looked across the faces of his people. They looked like survivors. They were hardened by the world they had fled. It's what made them who they are. They could never forget everything they had been through. They must remember where they came from.

"Okay." This was as far as Rick was able to plan in his mind. It was time to face the unknown. "Me, Mulder, and Scully are going to make first contact. I want you all to wait here. And no matter what happens, remember, we have our humanity. Hold onto that."

He headed toward the sealed door of the ship that would lower down to become a ramp. Mulder and Scully followed close behind. As Rick reached the door Eugene knelt down to open the latch. The door seal released and all of their ears popped with the slight pressure change. Eugene looked up toward Rick. "Are you positive you're ready for this?"

Rick nodded and, even though the question wasn't directed at him, Mulder uttered under his breath, "I'm beyond ready." Eugene pushed the door release and the floor lowered down revealing the ground below. Mulder stepped out first, unable to contain himself any longer. Rick and Scully followed. What they saw took their breath away. They were greeted by a silently waiting crowd of about a dozen alien life forms, all gathered in close to get a look at the new arrivals.. Rick gasped at the sight of them. Scully swallowed her shock and fear and stood stalk still. Mulder alone moved toward the beings, unafraid, more sure than ever before that this was exactly where he belonged.

Rick couldn't help thinking they looked like monsters. Tall, hairless, unclothed, with large heads and eerily giant black eyes. He reminded himself that after the monsters he had seen on Earth, these looked relatively harmless, peaceful. Just as Rick had his story and his humanity to hold onto, he told himself that this alien race also had their story. He was just one intelligent life form meeting another. He had no idea how to address these people, these things. Having come all this way, he still didn't know what to say.

It turned out he didn't have to say anything. Mulder addressed the crowd. "My name is Fox Mulder. We come seeking refuge. We mean you no harm." He held up his hands in surrender. He hoped they would understand the body language and take it as a show of good faith. He knew this society had been studying humans for at least 60 years, probably a great deal longer than that. He expected they would know how to communicate with him. He prayed they understood English.

He waited for what was probably a matter of seconds, but felt like eons for a response. They didn't speak. They didn't open their mouths. But, one by one, all the alien beings turned their heads, looking toward the back of their own crowd. They stepped aside so Mulder could see what they were looking at. At the back of the group of fleshy gray creatures were two figures, shrouded in hooded cloaks.

One of them spoke. "Fox." It was little more than a whisper, but it rang loud and clear in Mulder's ears. "I sensed your proximity. I knew it was you." The speaker reached up a hand and pulled back the hood, revealing a woman, a human woman.

She was older. She looked weary. She was changed in many ways. But there was no mistaking those eyes. Mulder knew those eyes. He was frozen where he stood, feeling almost too weak to stand. It took all the energy he had left in him to say her name. "Samantha."

Scully's eyes widened in disbelief. She stepped forward to stand by Mulder's side, to get a better look at the sister he had lost so long ago. Mulder had been right all along. She wasn't dead. She was alive and well. She had been waiting for him all these years.

Samantha placed her arm around the other shrouded figure, sliding back the hood of his cloak in the process. Mulder could hardly tear his gaze away from his long lost sister. When he did his eyes fell on a boy, a teenager. He had Scully's fiery red hair and Mulder's icy blue eyes. Scully didn't need to hear Samantha's next words to know who this was that stood before her. "William has been waiting for you for a very long time."

Scully nearly fainted. She felt as though all the blood drained out of her as she dropped to her knees. Mulder broke her fall. This was her son. This was their son. The son they had let go of so long ago. The son they had given up for adoption in order to protect him from the things she and Mulder had seen, to give him a chance at a normal life. The son she worried had been consumed by the outbreak. The son she thought was lost forever. Here he stood before her, alive, thriving.

She wanted to run to him, embrace him, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She didn't know if he would accept her. She didn't know how to explain to him the choice she had made to give him up. She didn't know if he could ever forgive her for that. Finally, as she stood frozen in indecision, he approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head, unable to believe this was real. He spoke to her with a voice like an angel. "She told me you would come. She always believed."

Tears streamed down Scully's face and she finally found the strength to wrap her arms around the boy she thought she had lost. "I never wanted to leave you. In my heart, I never left you." Samantha stepped forward and the four of them wrapped their arms around one another. Rick stood by and observed the scene, stunned. A family reunited across galaxies. This moment, this beautiful moment, was worth everything they had been through.

He turned, slowly, and walked back up the ramp into the ship to face his people, his Alexandrians, his earthlings. He peered up at a sea of anxious faces. Rick spread his arms in welcome as he said, "We are home."

Daryl sat on the front porch of one of the houses he sometimes occupied, watching the stillness of the town as darkness settled around him. He had kept his promise to himself. He had returned to Roxobel. It was where he had left all of his supplies. It was where he had left Carol. But those weren't the only reasons he came back. Something drew him back to this place. Some force pulled him in every time he strayed too far. He had left many times. He had to go out hunting. He had to scavenge for the necessities of life. But something always brought him back to Roxobel. He told himself that sometimes in life you make choices. Other times your choices choose you.

He had given in. He allowed himself to be drawn back. He refused to call this little town home, but truthfully it was as close to it as he was ever going to get.

It hadn't taken too long for the walkers to clear out. Occasionally one would wander through town and he would take care of it without much trouble. He guarded the cemetery fiercely. He didn't want to allow anyone, living or dead, to set foot on that hallowed ground. Sometimes he would spend the night there, alongside Carol's grave. But most nights he took shelter in one of the tiny houses that dotted the little town.

On this night he was staying at a little house on Sam Pruden Road. Daryl didn't know who Sam Pruden was or what he did to get a road named after him. But he liked to think of this house as Sam's house. From the front porch he had a distant view of the entrance to the cemetery. He stayed at this house a lot just for that reason.

The moon was almost full, which meant he had good visibility even as night crept in on him. The nights were the hardest. They seemed to stretch on forever. He kept himself busy during the day, but in the darkness of night he had nowhere to run from his memories. It was the memories of the people he had lost that haunted him. The memories made the loneliness feel palpable, heavy.

He had run across very few living people in the months since his friends had made their escape. His gut had told him they were bad people. None of them had survived the encounter. Trust no one. That was Daryl's new axiom. Loneliness was his only companion. He wouldn't make new friends. He had accepted that he would live out his days as the solitary protector of this tiny town. The knight of Roxobel. That's who he was now.

The wind suddenly picked up, catching Daryl's attention. It had been a very still night. The incoming breeze caught him off guard. Something about it didn't sound right. He cocked his head to one side, trying to listen more closely, like an animal sensing a predator nearby. He stood, picking up his crossbow, and moved to step off the porch. He hesitated, his foot hanging in midair. Then he stepped back. He decided he needed more protection, just in case. He opened the front door to the house, Sam's house, and retrieved an RPG from inside.

When he stepped back out onto the porch the wind was whipping more violently. There was the sound of trees rustling, but there was definitely something else, something unnatural. He stepped off the porch and looked up. The sky was clear, nothing but a bright moon and a sea of stars. He started down the road. With each step the sound grew louder. It sounded mechanical. It wasn't a car. It sounded more like a helicopter or a small plane, but not quite. He headed automatically toward the cemetery. As the sound increased in volume, Daryl increased his speed. He trusted his instincts, and they told him to run. He rounded the corner onto Cemetery Road. He hopped the fence into the graveyard, sprinting around the outside of the burial plots to arrive at Carol's gravemarker. He peered up through the trees, still seeing nothing out of the ordinary. The sound grew louder.

Daryl stepped out into the open. The mechanical sound was almost deafening now and it reverberated through his head, making it hard for him to think. This noise made no sense in his quiet little world. Finally some sort of movement caught his attention in the sky. Something shimmered and began to take shape. He took aim at it with his rocket powered grenade launcher. He held his breath. The shape shimmered again and then, all at once there was a great expanse of steel on top of him. Polished metal blocked out the night sky, reflecting the darkness and blotting out the moon. He nearly fell backwards, but regained his footing. He blinked a few times to try to reassure himself that what he was seeing was real. Hovering over him was an enormous triangular ship. It looked like a much larger version of the ARV that had taken everyone he cared about off this planet. But his gut told him this was no replica.

A door opened up in the bottom of the ship, forming a ramp that touched down on the grass of the cemetery. The hallowed ground. Light poured out of the opening. It was blinding compared to the darkness stretching out in every direction. Daryl thought it might be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He dropped the RPG in the grass and felt his legs carry him toward the light, although he made no conscious decision to do so. Some supernatural force was pulling him in. The closer he came to the ship the more certain he felt that this was right. This was what was always meant to be. Daryl set one foot on the ramp and squinted up into the illuminated interior of the ship. That was when he knew. He was going home.


End file.
